


If a Man Answers

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Drama, Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-27
Updated: 2008-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-27 18:23:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10814310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: When Ron comes back after two years, he dreads another man answering Hermione's door in the middle of the night. He certainly didn't expect the other man to be Harry. Jealousy, sex, betrayal, confusion, and heartache ensue.  Unfortunately, all is not as it should be and Ron must survive the unexpected consequences of his return, including broken relationships and promises.





	1. Chapter 1 - Finally Home

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Okay kids, I promise there will be fantastic smut in the next chapter, but I had to get this pesky plot stuff out of the way first.  


* * *

It’s over. Those were the last words said. Not “goodbye”, not “I’m sorry”, but “It’s over.”  
  
There had been no tearful embraces, no more angry words, just silent stares.  
  
We both knew it was coming- it was just a matter of who had the courage to end it first. We were too busy with our separate lives to even concern ourselves with the inconvenience.   
  
Inconvenience. That had been the last straw. Though things could have gone on quite happily- well, not happily, but as they usually did. When she acted as though my affection (which was far too rare an occurrence) was bothersome, I snapped.  
  
I understood her reasons for believing that I wanted something in return. To be honest, I almost always did want something from her. But that last time had been something entirely different.   
  
I had missed her, pure and simple. I wanted to feel her close to me. Being pushed away from her was more than I could stand and I pushed back: “It’s over.”  
  
At the time, I expected her to push back. As the seconds had ticked by with heart-wrenching agony, I realized that it was really over. My whole world was collapsing in on me and it was at least partly of my own doing.  
  
I always believed we would have some great row and come back to our senses. It never happened. We had disengaged from our shared existence long ago, but this was the final break to make it clean.  
  
I had moved out and tried desperately to get out of my head.   
  
I moved four times, once as far as America.  
  
I dated a lot, but there was never any spark. Attraction, lust, those were easy to find. But she had spoiled me. She hadn’t merely given me her physical body, her attraction, her lust. She had given me everything: her heart, her mind, her soul, her body, her love.   
  
Somehow, after having _all_ of her, _only_ having someone’s body seemed so empty and meaningless. I never managed to have sex with anyone else. I got close many times, but the plaguing emptiness had stopped me each time. I had gone home and taken a cold shower more times than I could even begin to count.   
  
It wasn’t just the sex, the physical connection, that I craved anymore. It was her. I knew I needed to see if there was any chance for us, any small possibility we could have each other again. I packed up my things and started flying home to her.  
  
It’s been two years. Two long years without a visit, fire call, owl, any contact at all. I hadn’t seen her beautiful face in two full years. I hadn’t seen my family or Harry in almost as long. Though they often owled asking me to come home, I rarely returned their letters. I had effectively dropped out of their lives and not given them any real means to force their way back in.  
  
I chuckled sadly to myself. That I had not seen my family was particularly ironic, considering she still saw my family and Harry. I had no idea how often she saw them, but every once in a while, the letters would mention her.   
  
_’Hermione’s well, Ron- just thought you would like to know.’_ That was Charlie, trying to be subtle.  
  
 _’Hermione’s got the flu this week, but Harry is taking good care of her.’_ That was Ginny, trying to assure me to not worry.  
  
 _’We just had Hermione and Harry over for dinner. They both look good.’_ That was mum, always taking care of everyone.  
  
 _’I’m planning a surprise party for Hermione’s birthday. Your whole family will be there. Please come to celebrate with us. It would mean a lot to us if you would come._ ’ That was Harry, proving he was a better friend than I ever could be.  
  
Something occurred to me as I flew toward her flat: what if I was too late? I had been so focused on seeing her again and on the idea that she might take me back, I hadn’t even entertained the possibility that maybe she couldn’t.  
  
She _wouldn’t_ send me away, not if she could help it. This I knew for certain and had just prayed she would still want me. Deep down, I just knew she would take me back.  
  
But, _could_ is different than _would_. Maybe there was already someone else. The letters had mentioned no one, but the senders were all smarter than to mention something like that. They had said she was happy and well.   
  
With someone else?  
  
The thought nearly ripped my heart in two.   
  
I forced myself to slow down and take a deep breath.  
  
Damn. Bugger. Fuck.  
  
She had always been fiercely loyal as a friend and as a lover. But now it was different. Not that she had anything to be loyal to now. I had let her go. She wasn’t mine anymore and I had given her two years to find someone to be happy with- _someone else_.  
  
Merlin, she was beautiful, smart, funny, warm; she was everything I had ever wanted and so much more. She was what everyone really wanted at the end of the day. She wouldn’t have stayed single for long, she couldn’t have.  
  
I knew I was in no state to see her, so I decided to set down and find a drink to calm my nerves.  
  
I could have called Fred and George, but they were probably at their homes with their wives. I probably could have actually called any of my brothers, but they were all married and with families.   
  
Instead, I found a Muggle bar where no one would know me; it’s only distinguishing aspect with the cheesy, sorrowful music which was playing. Perfect. Sort of.  
  
I continued musing about my family as I sat and ordered a whiskey. Not Old Ogden’s, but not half bad.   
  
Family, I thought bitterly to myself, was what I did not have, not in the way I wanted it. Why did my life always have to seem so hard and complicated? If I had enough sense to realize how good my life had been, things might have been different.   
  
Soon I’ll be the only one left in the family to not have someone to go home to, to not have a family of their own. Ginny and Harry must have been close to engagement by now, considering it’s been about three years. Three years since Voldemort had been defeated. Three years since things had seemed so full of hope and life and new beginnings.   
  
We had started dating around the same time Harry and Ginny had. I suspected we would have been married by now if we had stayed together; why wait when you know you’ve found “the one”? Of course, I hadn’t known it back then; otherwise I never would have let things go so far. The thought of losing my one and only perfect match made me want to vomit. Or perhaps that was the fourth cup of whiskey I was nursing. I suspected the former much more than the latter, because the Muggle whiskey wasn’t half as strong as Old Ogden’s.   
  
As I lost the ability to think about anything other than impending heartbreak, I noticed the words being sung on the strange box she had told me was like our wireless.   
  
_If a man answers I know what I'll do, I'll lie here awake so I don't dream about you._ _  
 _If a man answers at this time of night, at least I'll know somebody's holding you tight._  
 _If a man answers I won't call again, and I'll know where I stand while I twist in the wind._  
  
 _Oh baby, I'm just missin' you; I'm crazy still in love with you._  
 _I know my heart will break in two if a man answers._  
_  
Oh, fuck. I had not even thought about a bloke answering her door.   
  
_I just gotta tell you girl, maybe somehow make you see how much I want you to come back to me._ _  
 _But if a man answers, you'll never know; he'll let you sleep while I let you go._  
  
 _Oh baby, I'm just missin' you; I'm crazy still in love with you._  
 _I know my heart will break in two if a man answers._  
  
 _If a man answers, you'll never know; if a man answers, I'll let you go._  
_  
Shite. This bloke seemed to have the right idea. If a bloke answered her door right now, I would be lost. But would I be able to let her go? Would I be able to be happy for her, for them?  
  
I shook my head knowing I would fight for her, fight for our love.   
  
But, I thought, calling on her now wasn’t half a bad idea. At least, if a bloke answered her door at this time of night, I would know what I was up against.  
  
I finished my whiskey with a hard gulp and gathered my courage. I had to do this now, otherwise I would have lost my strength to do it tonight and I needed to know.  
  
I somehow made it to our flat, well, _her_ flat now, without killing myself. Bracing myself for the worst, I knocked on the door. It was two in the morning, so I knew I might have to knock a second time a little harder.   
  
Actually, if I admitted it to myself, I was both scared and excited. This could have been the worst moment of my entire life- and that was saying a lot considering what I had lived through.   
  
This also could have been the best moment of my life: Hermione coming to the door, hair all mussed and eyes half asleep. I loved her like that, so relaxed, so peaceful. She could be angry for a moment, but then she could allow herself to forgive me, I reasoned.   
  
I closed my eyes in anticipation and knocked a second time. I heard footsteps pad toward the door and the locks being turned. I felt the door open and heard a startled gasp before I slid my eyes open.   
  
Standing there in nothing but boxer shorts and glasses was my best friend. Harry’s hair was mussed, his eyes were sleepy, yet somehow alive. He looked great, really had filled out, I thought fleetingly before I became angry.   
  
I left and my best friend/my sister’s boyfriend had taken _my_ place in Hermione’s bed? How dare he! Wanker!  
  
All of a sudden, something seemed to fall into place: Harry planning a surprise party, my family having them both over for dinner, Harry and Ginny not being engaged yet.

 

Staring at Harry, open-mouthed from shock and horror, I fought the urge to either run or to punch the ridiculous grin off of his face.

“Ron,” he croaked at me before giving me a bone-crushing hug. It was getting hard to breathe before I finally was able to get out from his clutch.

I didn’t want to admit how good it felt to be held so tightly when the smug prat had just been sleeping with _my_ Hermione. Yes, _my_ Hermione. She would be mine again someday, I swore to myself, and braced myself for the fight.

“Ron, can’t believe you’re finally here, really here, finally home. Your family must have told you where to find me, no doubt,” the prat rattled on and on.

No, I thought angrily, you being here at all was a rather nasty surprise.

I allowed myself to be dragged inside, ready to tell Harry not to wake up my love when he suddenly called out to her.

“Hermione, my love? Come out here right now!”

_Love? Your love?_ No, she’s _my_ love!

Jealousy surged within my body and curled to strike. How dare he wake her in the middle of the night, much less call her love while doing it.

Before thoughts came to mind about how to handle this new situation, Hermione, _my_ love, came running from her room.

“Harry? Honey, what’s wrong?”

Honey. Fuck. Bugger. Shite. Damn it all. Honey had become a dirty word the moment it purred from her luscious mouth. Her hair was mussed, just like I remembered. Her eyes were half asleep, still gorgeous pools of melted chocolate.

Suddenly her eyes opened wide with shock and she and Harry shared a glance. I did not understand the glance. Was this a glance of lovers? Was this a glance of lovers caught by someone they did not want to be caught by? Was this silent communication about how to handle the slightly tipsy ex-best friend and ex-lover whom they had betrayed? Hermione had always been really good at silently communicating her thoughts. Yes, I had decided, this was the look of people who were afraid to confront their betrayal; and yet, there I was.

Hermione walked over to Harry and clung to him, tears in her eyes. He clutched her tightly, too tightly for my comfort. There was something in the embrace which was far from comfort. There was familiarity, there was love. I hadn’t expected the man answering her door to be Harry. I certainly hadn’t expected her to love him. I didn’t blame him for loving her, though I was angry about his inability to keep his hands off of someone who clearly belonged to me.

Harry walked Hermione over to the couch, still holding her tightly, and whispered words I could not hear. He kissed her forehead and kept his arm around her waist when he lowered her to the cushion. He motioned for me to sit on the opposite couch and I had felt too weak to resist. My breath had been stolen away from me, along with my hope and half of my heart. Actually, more than half, because it was Harry who answered the door. I knew my friendship with him had changed in the instant that he had opened the door. The two largest parts of my heart lied down in their chambers and decided to stop functioning.

“Ron,” Harry began tentatively, rubbing Hermione’s back in intimate circles. “I don’t know what finally brought you home to us, but I have never been more relieved in my life, including when we took down Voldemort together. Not having you around for the last two years has been the worst time of my life. You’re staying with us, no if’s, and’s or but’s, we won’t take no for an answer. Right, love?” Harry asked her softly.

“Yes, honey,” Hermione responded with down-turned eyes, pain clearly evident. I longed to hold her, to kiss her pain away. I couldn’t. She couldn’t let me. I let her go and another man had answered her door- my cue to take a bow gracefully. I had been geared up to fight for her, but I had lost my will. I lost my will, my strength, my hope, my heart. I couldn’t fight my best friend for our mutual best friend. It would have amounted to cruel and unusual punishment for all of us, at least at this time of night. After a good night’s sleep, I could not guarantee that the fight would be over. I suspected I would toil after her until she was mine again, but at what eventual cost? I forced myself to not think such things while they stared at me expectantly.

I tried to find my voice, but only a squeak escaped. Instead, I nodded my agreement to Harry, unable to look her in the eyes just yet.

“I’ll sleep in the spare room, if that’s okay, since you two will obviously be in the master bedroom.” I fairly spat out the last part, but I could hardly help myself. I wanted them to know that this fight was not over. I almost felt ashamed of coming into their home (which had been _our_ home first!) and threatening to break them up.

Two soft gasps and more tears followed the bile I had spoken.

Harry and Hermione exchanged yet another silent glance before he abruptly stood.

“It’s time for bed. I am going to demand to hear every detail of everything tomorrow. Oh, and I reserve the right to smack you for being gone for two years, you wanker. Now, however, is the time to sleep. I’ll need my strength to kick your arse in the morning. That’s the only warning you’re going to get.” Harry sounded serious enough, but one look at his twinkling eyes told me he was merely trying to go back to our familiar pattern of taking the mickey out of each other. Clearly my anger was hard for him to accept and he had chosen to ignore it for the time being.

I expected Hermione to get up and follow Harry. She merely stayed on the couch while Harry leaned down to kiss her softly on the tip of her nose. It was friendly, yet an intimate gesture. It tore my heart apart, but I restrained any thoughts about what he could possibly be whispering so privately in her ear. With another kiss on her cheek and a clap on my shoulder, Harry was gone.

The silence was more painful than I could have imagined.

“Hermione, I-”

“Don’t,” she said tearfully. I felt compelled to look into her eyes. She had stood before I raised my eyes and walked closer to me. I tried to breathe. She was almost close enough to touch.

I stood, looked into her soul, and waited for her to bridge the gap.

_Slap._

Hermione’s right hand connected with my left cheek almost before I could register her hand moving.

“That was for leaving two years ago without so much as one word.”

I hung my head in shame; I knew I deserved her anger, but it was hard to hear. I finally raised my eyes to hers again.

_Slap._ _  
_  
Hermione’s left hand landed firmly on my right cheek just as our eyes met.

“That was for insinuating that you have any right to be angry or hurt if Harry and I are sleeping together.”

I again hung my head. I deserved the anger, the pain, all the horrible feelings going through me, because I had wanted to hurt her. I had wanted to hurt my love how she had hurt me when Harry had answered the door. Somehow I couldn’t bring myself to deny her anything she wanted right now.

_Kiss._ __  
  
Hermione’s soft lips pushed insistently against my own albeit confused ones. I knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth. I took advantage of her kiss, blocking thoughts of this possibly being our last kiss ever. I felt her arms wrap around my shoulders, pulling my face ever closer to hers. Her tongue jutted out to dance with mine and we played furiously. It was an angry kiss, a passionate kiss, a kiss full of hurt and hate. She abruptly broke her lips away from mine and I died inside at the gap of inches between us.

“And that was for coming home, though you’re late for dinner and you smell like a bar.”

_Kiss._ __

Hermione’s lips brushed mine again, chastely this time. She eventually deepened the kiss, while still locking her arms around me. She slowly led me to our bedroom, refusing to break the kiss even to walk properly.

I barely had time to register the thought that I hadn’t truly lost her, that there was still hope, when we hit the bed.

***** Reviews are love!


	2. Chapter 2 - Revelations

  
Author's notes:

A/N: 

* * *

 

My mind raced with the knowledge that I was home and I was finally with my Hermione.  

 

The miles and the years passed over my eyes as I remembered what being with her was like.

 

_The first kisses had been so tentative after weeks of walking in circles.  Hesitation.  A fear to change what had always been and what was already so right._

 

Our kisses now were nothing like those first attempts to fit together.  In a practiced rhythm, my mouth met hers over and over.  Give.  Take.  Our kisses were familiar, yet changed by the time apart- angry, passionate, hurt, lustful, revengeful, generous. 

 

We conveyed so much of the past into such simple movements.  Nip: you hurt me.  Suck: I'm sorry.  Lick: I missed you.  Crush: don't ever leave me again.  Sigh:  I promise.  I could almost _hear_ her words in my mind and instinctively knew she heard mine as well.  

 

Her tongue battled with mine, a competition to see who would win the coveted bottom lip and upper hand.  Push.  Pull.  I let her win.  I had already won everything I needed.

 

Her hands moved over my face, the nape of my neck, and grasped my shoulders.  I remembered the awkward clumsiness which we both had been plagued with long ago.

 

_Her first touches had caused shudders to pass through my body.  She was afraid she had hurt me and stopped her torturous movements.  I had begged her not to stop, feeling empty at the loss of her touch.  Slowly her fingers returned to my body, becoming less shy, more curious._

 

Her touches now held no trace of that original shyness, that awkwardness.  She boldly traced fire across my skin, knowing what she was doing to me.  I returned the favor, kneading my hands down her arms, squeezing her waist, grabbing her hips.  I pulled her body firmly against mine, delighting in the feel of her meeting me at every turn.  

 

As she broke our kiss to take gasps of air, my mouth drew loving kisses onto her neck, down to the swell of her breasts.  I pushed her dressing down aside to take in the satin slip she slept in.

 

Looking into her eyes, I silently asked her permission to continue, to love her.  Without taking her eyes off of mine, she stood, raised her hands to the straps and slid them off her shoulders.  The satin pooled at her feet and she toed it away with an ease I had feared I would never see again with her. 

 

She pulled me to my feet and slowly began to undress me, setting buttons free from their clasps on a long journey toward my abdomen.  This was for her, I told myself, and gave my body over to her teasing and re-discovering.  I let her direct my movements and remembered our first time. 

 

_"I don't know what I'm doing," she had said shakily._

 

_"Well, there's a first time for everything," I had replied, trying to ease the tension._

 

_"What if I'm bad?" she had whispered, barely audible._

 

_A guttural groan had escaped from my lips and I assured her, "I promise, you aren't... So beautiful, my Hermione."_

 

_We had undressed each other with reverence, in awe of the gift we were giving each other._

 

Awe was still present now, but an overwhelming sense of hunger shadowed all other emotions.

 

She finished undressing me and we moved back to the bed.  I pulled her close to my chest, holding her head against my hammering heart.  Before we went any further, I needed to break the silence to tell her how much she meant to me. 

 

"I've missed you.  Merlin, you can't know how much.  I thought I had lost you, maybe forever, and I need you to know I love you.  I'm not just here for this, I'm home for good if you'll have me."  I held my breath and awaited her answer.  

 

"Welcome home.  Now shut up and make love to me."

 

Her mouth was back on mine before I could respond.  I rolled so that my body covered hers, our legs tangled up together in a heap.  My tongue laved over her skin, marking her as mine.  I continued between her breasts and finally found a taut peak inviting me to taste her once again.  Her gasps as I pulled the nipple into my mouth reminded me again of past times, sometimes unsure, but always teasing.  

 

_I had chuckled at a game my brothers and I used to play at home.  As I lapped at her body, small giggles escaping my lips from giddiness.  I knew this was not a time to be laughing, when I was about to have everything I had ever wanted.  I was so afraid to fuck things up, and yet, it was still too funny to keep inside._

 

_"What is so funny, Ronald?"  Though she sounded cross, her eyes had given away her playfulness._

 

_"I was just thinking about an old game I used to play which I'm now re-discovering.  It's called 'I licked it, it's mine.'  I think almost every inch of your body belongs to me now!"_

 

_"Not every inch just yet..."_

 

Enjoying the memory, I drew myself back to the present, releasing her nipple to say "mine."

 

"Yours," she moaned in agreement.

 

I continued my assault of her breasts, moving to the neglected one, as my hands explored lower.  

 

My fingertips danced lightly in places and pushed more roughly in others.  Pinch.  Poke.

 

This was heaven, closer to perfection that anything else in my life.  The lower my hands traveled, the deeper and more erotic her moans became.  I had always been entranced by Hermione's noises and tonight was no exception.  For someone who always seemed rather reserved- but never lacking in enthusiasm or liveliness- she was surprisingly vocal in intimate settings.  Of course, Hermione had never shied away from being vocal and making herself known.  I loved it.  

 

These were sounds for me; they weren't for another living soul and I relished the thought of being the only person in this world who could hear them.  

 

My mouth left her breast to caress kisses down her abdominal muscles, pausing to flick my tongue in and out of her perfect belly button.  It had just enough room to get the tip in and left me wanting more.  It was perfection, without a question.  Hermione had always hated when I said such things to her, preferring to be loved for all of her supposed flaws.  But to me, I didn't see the flaws, so she was perfect in my eyes.  

 

I kissed her pubic mound, massaging my thumbs in circles around her flesh.  Looking up into her flushed face, I made her a promise: "Someday."

 

Her sweet smile encouraged me to complete my journey and settle in to the promised land.  My fingers gently parted her folds and stroked the sensitive flesh.  Up.  Down.  I knew I was driving her crazy, I felt her hands trying to push me where she wanted me.

 

She arched her back and pushed herself closer to my fingers and face, but I wasn't ready yet.  I took a deep breath, savoring the scent I had missed.  I could vividly remember the taste and reached my tongue out for an achingly brief second.  Wet.  She moaned in frustration, begging me to stop teasing her.

 

"Fuck, Hermione.  You're so wet."  I was amazed that somehow I was still able to arouse her.  I knew it shouldn't be a shock, but the realization of her wanting me as much as I wanted her had not fully hit me until that moment.   

 

I couldn't wait anymore to feel her passion coursing through my veins, into my mouth.  I dragged my tongue over her swollen lips, avoiding the nub which would ultimately be her undoing.  I pushed one finger into her aching body and heat enveloped me like a raging fire.  

 

I began to lick her more swiftly and deeply, hearing her moans and gasps.  I pushed another finger into her, swirling around to the spot I remembered gave her more pleasure than she could bear.  Her hands tangled into my hair, tugging roughly on the strands and the pleasure became more intense.  

 

I knew I had found the spot when she began shuddering, not quite ready to come yet.  At the moment, my lips covered her aching clit and sucked hard.  That movement, as I had already known, was enough to take her over the edge.  I rode wave after wave with her, as she jerked, shuddered, and twitched with pleasure.  Her face and body were so pink, so beautiful.  I always loved her like this- she had no idea how hard it made me to see her so completely sated.  

 

I adored watching her come down from the high.  

 

She tugged on my hair, insistently showing me she wanted me to join her at the head of the bed.

 

She kissed me hard, licking at my tongue, enjoying the fruits of my harvest.  She always had a way of making that sexy act seem so very hungry- as though she needed to taste the evidence of us being together.

 

She began to slide down my body, her small hands gliding over my tensing muscles.  She was going to use her mouth!  Merlin, I loved when she used her mouth.  There was something so very wanton in the thought of her having that kind of power over me. 

 

Though I would never admit it, I loved the vulnerability of being inside her mouth, the fullness it evoked in me.  She had the advantage of feeling us inside her body every time we made love, every time we fucked.  But I never truly felt the inherent fullness of that intimacy, though I took deep satisfaction in knowing that I was inside her.  I loved being as vulnerable in her hands, her mouth, as she was when I was buried deep inside her.  

 

Her luscious lips swept over the tip of my cock and I felt it practically leap into the open recess.  With no one else had it ever felt so good, so right.  As her cheeks hollowed and her head bobbed, I didn't need to force the thought of other women out of my mind.  Of the couple birds who had done this, none could compare to her and always, I had begrudgingly admitted to myself long ago, paled with my memory of Hermione.  

 

She continued to suckle at my cock, dragging her fingertips across my tight ball sac.  I felt the delicious tingling growing stronger and knew I needed to stop her.  I wanted to come so badly, needed it so much.  But, I wanted her and needed her so much more. 

 

"Stop, Hermione.  Love, you need to stop.  I want to be inside you.  Need to be inside you.  Can't wait any longer to have you."  I was babbling; I knew it.  I needed to distract myself from those lips, those eyes looking deeply into mine. 

 

With a feral growl, she came back up to me, kissed me fiercely and said, "Then take me."  

 

In an instant, I flipped her onto her back and placed my throbbing head into her blinding heat.  I held my weight on my forearms over her body and slowly pushed inside her, inch by inch.

 

When I was finally sheathed entirely inside her, I stayed there, unmoving.  Every time we were together, if I was in control of our movements, I did that because it reminded me of the very first time I had been called home to her body. 

 

_The first time had been so tight, so wonderful and overwhelming, but I knew it was painful for her.  As soon as my cock had been fully buried inside her, I waited, feeling her break and then stretch around me.  I waited for her, but I waited for me, too.  My brothers had always told me the first time I would lose it quickly and come very soon because the physical sensations would be too much.  What they had never told me was that the physical pleasure would be nothing compared with the almost unbearable raw emotion.  I nearly cried like a baby with the strength of emotion coursing through my body.  I had savored the feel of our bodies being joined, now like our hearts and souls.  As soon as I had my fill of the delicious love surrounding me, I found the will to move and it had been beautiful._  
 

Now, it was still beautiful and I waited for those first feelings to subside a bit.  Hermione knew why I always waited and called me a hopeless romantic, but I knew she secretly loved it.  She loved the fact that I kept that part of myself hidden from everyone but her.  

 

I swallowed the love she was offering me, drinking in the years of missed time, and began to move.  I slowly pulled my hips away from hers and then buried myself deeply within her again, gaining speed with each thrust.  She arched her back and met my thrusts with vigor.  Hermione was a fantastic lover, so full of energy and excitement. 

 

I hooked my right arm under her left leg, pulling it flush against my chest as I plunged into her over and over.  The change in angle was deliciously pleasurable, giving a different friction to the shaft of my cock as it slid through her slick folds.  It seemed to be doing something wonderful for Hermione as well, because her moans became louder and her body began to stiffen slightly.  

 

Knowing that she was so close, so primed and ready to be plucked, I reached down between our bodies and found her soft nub of sensitive flesh.  I grasped it firmly between my thumb and forefinger and twisted it roughly.  In that moment, I knew it was all over.  I felt her inner walls squeezing my cock, coaxing me to follow her into ecstasy as her second orgasm overtook her.  I relished the sounds she made as she came, my name spilling from her lips.  After all this time, I still got a giddy sense of pride knowing that I had caused her so much pleasure and that she had called my name while in the throes of passion.

 

I allowed myself to give in to the tightening in my groin and the pleasure which rolled throughout my entire body.  I curled my toes, dug my knees deeper into the mattress, and began pounding into Hermione, speeding toward an inevitable conclusion.  I propelled my body back and forth, staving off my orgasm for a few more moments.  As I felt the explosion from my cock, I spilled into her, still pumping against her body.  I buried myself against her neck, trapping her beneath me, saying her name like a prayer.  

 

I was completely spent, but I refused to move or leave her body until I told her of my love, of my commitment to come home to her and be with her for eternity.    

 

"I love you.  I love you so much.  I'm really home."

 

"Yes, you are.  Though you were never far from my heart."  I could nearly die every time I heard her say something like that.  

 

"And you really still want this, want us?"

 

"More than ever... so much."  Her eyes began to water and I knew that the realization had finally hit her.  

 

I didn't know why, but my big mouth continued of its own accord, not content to leave things unsaid.

 

"And you never slept with Harry?"  I just had to know, but it shouldn't have mattered.  I should have trusted her and left well enough alone.

 

I looked into her glistening eyes, noticing sadness for the first time since we landed in the bedroom.  No, just say no, I chanted to myself.  But there was what I didn't want to see: hesitation.  She bit her lip and a tear slid down her cheek.

 

"Oh, Ron.  I'm so sorry." Thank you for reading and reviewing! ~Risie


	3. Chapter 3 - Frozen

  
Author's notes: Thank you to Mench for the speedy and careful beta. Thank you to everyone reading and reviewing! I appreciate it very much! ~Risie *****  


* * *

_Oh, Ron.  I'm so sorry._

 

_Oh, Ron.  I'm so sorry._

 

_Oh, Ron.  I'm so sorry._

 

I stared down at Hermione, still buried within her body, watching silent tears stream down her cheeks.  She looked as though she was having a difficult time breathing, but I felt as though I had left my body.  

 

Her words repeated loudly in my mind over and over again, steadily suffocating my ability to move oxygen into my brain.  My heart thudding in my chest overwhelmed my senses, my breath came in short pants.  

 

_Oh, Ron.  I'm so sorry._

 

Her tears were mocking my pain, her eyes were begging forgiveness for her only crime and yet, it was impossible for me to offer it to her.  

 

My brain seemed to be dead, unable to process the fact that I needed to move, I needed to leave.  Somehow, my body instinctively understood the necessity to fly away from here and protect what little was left of my soul.  I began to pull back, but Hermione's legs tightened around my waist.  

 

I stared into her face, angry at her refusal to let me back away and gather my dignity.  I again tried to disentangle my body and leave the previously heavenly warmth of hers, but she continued to constrict her legs around me.

 

I hadn't remembered her being so strong, but if Hermione was anything, she was stubborn.  Unfortunately for her, my obstinate nature could fight with her and win in the worst of situations.  

 

"Hermione.  Let.  Go."  I paused menacingly between each word, hoping to emphasize the rage which was seething just below the surface.  

 

"No.  Not like this.  I can't."  More tears.  More pain.  She was choosing to focus on the pain of the moment.

 

_Goddamn it!  Doesn't she understand I need to be angry?  Without the anger, I'll fall apart._

 

At the dangerous turn my thoughts were threatening to take, I resolved to hurt her.  I _wanted_ to hurt her, hurt her like she hurt me.  I wanted her to feel how much I hated what we had become.  I wanted her to feel wretched, because she would not have the strength to hold me then, she would not have the willpower to keep me imprisoned in this exquisite pain, inside her body.

 

"Hermione.  I mean it," I growled quietly, yet fiercely.  "Let GO.  NOW!"

 

"No," she screamed back at me.  "If I do that, you'll leave me and I'll never see you again.  I won't let you go."  Her grip tightened excruciatingly and I wondered where all of her strength had come from.

 

"You're bloody right I'm damn well leaving," I spat out.

 

"No, you're NOT!  I'm not going to lose you again," she cried.

 

"Too fucking late.  You lost me when you fucked Harry."  

 

_Damn, it hurt to even think about it._

 

I had no idea if I really meant what I said or not.  On the one hand, I loved her- real, true, honest-to-Merlin love.  I would never be happy without her again.  On the other hand, would I ever be able to forgive what she did?

 

_Slap._

 

"How _dare_ you!  I told you that what Harry and I do is none of your concern- you're not allowed to get jealous or angry."

 

"Go on, defend your fuck-buddy!"  I knew their relationship was so much more that, but I wanted to cheapen it.  I couldn't bear the thought that she might actually be in love with him.

 

_Slap._

 

"Don't ever call him that!  Ever!  You have absolutely no right.  Did you forget you practically drove me into his arms?"  Her eyes flashed dangerously and I was finally back to familiar grounds.  An angry Hermione was a formidable opponent, but one I knew as well as myself.  

 

"So glad this wasn't a test, _love_ ," I sneered.  "You would have failed spectacularly!  At least Harry can pick up the pieces when you fall apart."

 

"That's enough."

 

Before I realized what she was doing, Hermione lunged for her wand and flicked it at me.

 

My body froze and felt like lead.  She must have released her legs and slid out from under my body, because I thudded face down on the bed.

 

Suddenly, I felt empty.  I hadn't anticipated the sensation of being removed from her body to be as emotionally painful as I was experiencing.

 

I could hear her sniffling and pulling on her dressing gown.

 

_What the hell is she doing?_

 

My world tumbled and I was on my back, staring at the ceiling.  I could see her out of the corner of my eye, just sitting on the edge of the bed.  

 

_Our bed.  Or, at least, it used to be ours._

"Ron...  I'm not going to release the spell until I have said some things.  I think Harry should be here for this, but I'll wait for him to get here."

 

She paused, but I couldn't protest even if I wanted to.

 

"Ron, when you left, I fell apart.  I didn't hide my tears from anyone, I didn't pretend to be strong, I just let myself go..."

 

_Hermione?  But that doesn't sound like my love, the Hermione I have known for half of my life._

"I have no idea how I truly survived that first week without you."

 

I remembered the first week on my own with particular pain.  It had been the longest, most dreadful week of my life to not wake up beside her, to be in my self-imposed exile.

 

"I went to work and came home to cry myself to sleep every night.  Do you hear me?  Every.  Single.  Night.  I barely ate, I barely spoke to anyone."

 

_Oh, Merlin.  I didn't expect that._ I marveled at how similar our time apart sounded.  I had been completely miserable without her and found countless ways to distract myself from her memory.    

 

"Everyone else went searching for you, day and night, week after week.  I knew it was no use- you wanted to be gone.  You wanted to be lost and you would only be found or come back to us when you were ready."

 

She took a deep breath before continuing.  I was trying desperately to convince myself that she really hadn't been in _that_ much pain because of me.  I had worked so hard to assure myself that my leaving was better for everyone, even if it nearly killed me to do it.  Yet here she was, telling me what I had known deep down, but could never let myself hope for- she had missed _me,_ wanted me, _needed me._

 

"Harry received a letter from you after a couple days.  You asked him to promise to take care of me.  He felt like he must have failed you in some way to make you leave.  He refused to fail you in your request of him and he promised me and you that he would do everything in his power to look after me."

 

I had known Harry would take care of my girl, but I had no idea that he would take my leaving as a failure on his part.  That sounded like something I would do- not _Harry_ , of all people. 

 

_What would possess him to think my leaving was his fault?_

 

"He came here everyday and forced me to eat.  He slept on the couch for months- for nearly a year actually, just to make sure he was here if I woke up screaming or crying."

 

_Why do you wake up that way?_ I myself had woken to both tears and screams, some from memories of the final battle, some from my misery at being so far away.  

 

"He spent so much time with me that he nearly lost his job- twice!  All because he refused to fail you again and break his promise.  And that's not even the worst of it.  He and Ginny fought constantly.  I begged him to go to her, to save their relationship before it was too late, but no.  You know Harry.  When he gets an idea in his head, there's no stopping him."  

 

I snorted internally.  _Well, if that isn't just the understatement of the century!_

 

"He told her she should understand why it was so important to him to keep his promise to you.  She gave him an ultimatum:  choose between his promises, his obligation to you or his obligation to her.  He chose YOU.  His best mate!  Over the love of his life!"

 

_No!  Why would he do that?  No, he wouldn't just... No..._

 

Hermione's voice had been increasing in volume, her anger rising with her tone.  Now she was practically screaming at the top of her lungs.  

 

"He broke your sister's heart and his own, because you were more important to him than anything else in this world.  You received Harry's greatest possible gift, but it wouldn't have mattered to you, so no one wrote to tell you."

 

I wished I could close my ears and my eyes.  This threatened to kill me- hearing of their continuing love for me.  And yet, something was not adding up.

 

_How can she claim they love me and were basically miserable without me, but ignore that they somehow ended up shagging?  It doesn't make any sense!_

 

"He was willing to alienate your whole family- the only family he has ever really had or known.  All because he couldn't bear to break his promise to his brother, to you.  You were always Harry's first love and I think his deepest love."

 

_Me?  But what about Ginny?  That's just daft._

 

She took a deep breath and appeared to be trying to calm herself, to brace herself.  

 

"He went to your parents and talked to them to explain himself.  Do you have any idea how humbling that was for him?  He had to explain why he had broken your sister's heart and their trust in him that he would never hurt her."

 

_I can't believe he did that!  I wouldn't have been able to face the wrath of Mum- hell, I wouldn't have been able to face her disappointment._

 

"And your parents forgave him.  Your parents understood that everything he was doing was for you.  They tried to understand how he could risk his entire life and future for you and they realized how deep his love for you ran."

 

_I never knew.  I always knew what I had with him was different than what I have with any of my other brothers, but I had no idea that he felt that too.  I'm such a wanker._

 

"He came back here and he cried uncontrollably.  He cried because he had never known the unconditional love, acceptance, and forgiveness of a parent as he had in those moments.  And somehow, miraculously, with that gift from your parents, he started to come out of it.  He started to become himself again.  He still slept here, but he took more time for himself, he gave me some space to breathe... and I was learning to live again.  I knew if it was meant to be, you would come back to me.  I prayed for it every night.  I wished on every star I could see.  I somehow managed to truly get through my days."

 

_And there it is.  She moved on.  I was gone for too long...  too long.  And then she just stopped loving me.  Well, she stopped being **in** love with me._

 

"We talked more, we laughed more," she continued.  "We even managed to talk about you without crying.  He officially moved in here, because I was tired of him sleeping on the couch and paying for a flat he never went to.  He moved into what had been my office and he seemed so much happier."

 

I heard her take several deep breaths.  I prepared myself for her next words.  Somehow, I knew this was going to be when she told me about them.  

 

_Please, don't.  I don't think I can hear about how you love him.  It's bad enough to hear that you no longer love me, but I just can't bear to hear you say you love him now.  No._

 

"Then, the worst thing possible happened.  Harry popped over to the Leaky one night to pick up dinner on his way home...  He- he saw Ginny.  He hadn't seen her in over a month and there she was.  She was on a date with Oliver Wood and they were snogging, right there for everyone to see.  And the absolute worst part was, she looked happy- so very happy.  She had moved on and Harry had thought that they would be together when you came home."

 

_As horrible as that is, I guess I'm happy that she's happy.  So why I am so miserable?  We've all had our hearts broken, and it's all my fault.  I can't hear this anymore, it just hurts so much._

 

"He left on the spot, came here and collapsed in my arms.  He just couldn't bear to lose her a second time.  First you, then her... he felt so alone.  I got him into his bed and he begged me not to leave, to just hold him.  And I did.  I held him and I rocked him, and he cried until I thought he had nothing left to give.  I've never seen him look more lost and that's saying something.  And, heaven help me, I kissed him, Ron."  

 

_And there it is.  The moment that my life was over.  The moment that my heart stopped and I should have just died._

 

"I didn't know what else to do, but somehow it felt right.  I just wanted you to know that.  Be mad at me, not at Harry.  He never would have done anything if I hadn't initiated it, but I was lonely and I wanted to comfort my best friend.  I wanted to give my love to the one person who truly never had given up on me the year before."

 

Another deep breath.

 

_Another stab right through my heart.  I wonder if she even knows what this is doing to me- if she even cares._

 

"I kissed him and he kissed me back, looking shocked, but we both somehow knew it had been inevitable.  He was so hungry and I was so hungry and we just let ourselves get carried away.  We let ourselves feel another person for the first time in ages and it still felt right."

 

_Why did it feel right for you?  It never felt right to me with anyone but you, love.  No one before you and no one after you ever felt right to me.  I don't understand how things got so fucked up, to the point that they cannot be fixed.  Oh, wait.  I did that.  I'm the one who fucked everything up.  Typical._

 

"We gave in and we loved each other.  He was passionate, but slow, so slow.  It was like waking up, like coming alive and I won't apologize for it.  So, you see, Harry could never be just a fuck buddy, as you so crudely called it- him- because he never started out that way.  With Harry it has always been making love and I'm so sorry if that hurts you.  It was always making love with you too, but you ran away from that, from us...  I'm just so tired.  I'm going to leave you where you are and I want you to sleep.  We'll try and figure things out in the morning...  I know we can all work this out.  I can't lose you, we can't lose you again."

 

The bed dipped and she kissed my eyes, my cheeks, my forehead, and finally my lips so softly.  

 

She rested her cheek next to mine and whispered, "I still love you.  I always have.  That will never change."

 

I wished I could cry.  

 

_She said it.  Finally.  That was the first time she said she loves me since I came home.  And yet, she's not mine anymore, not really._

 

She left the bedroom with a quiet click of the door and I felt more alone than I had in two years.  

 

_Pathetic._

 

I willed myself to sleep, which proved to be quite difficult with my eyelids frozen open.

 

As I began to drift, my mind's eye could not erase the images of my Hermione, _my love,_ making love to someone else, anyone else, much less Harry.  

 

Despite her reassurances, I knew that life would not magically be better in the morning or any clearer than in this moment.  I fell asleep, anticipating the gloom that awaited me.  

 

_Damn, this is going to kill me._

***** Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts! ~Risie


	4. Chapter 4 - Hearing Without Understanding

  
Author's notes: Many thanks to Mench, as always, for her thorough and speedy beta work!  


* * *

***** 

_Damn, that hurts... Where the fuck am I?  Oh, right- hell on Earth._

 

The previous night came flooding back to me as raised voices floated through the walls.

 

I could hear Harry and Hermione yelling at each other and felt momentarily guilty for possibly having caused it before squelching the unpleasantness rising within me.

 

_Good.  I'm glad I caused a fight.  Serves them right, moving on without me- moving on with each other like that.  They can fight ‘til they're blue in their faces for all I care._

 

"I can't believe you just left him like that, Hermione- what the hell is the matter with you?"

 

_Yeah.  You tell her, Harry!  Say something about her hexing me next._

 

"What's the matter with me?  Did you not hear what I just told you he said to me?  He called you my fuck-buddy.  My FUCK-BUDDY!  Frankly, I think hexing him with Petrificus Totalus is the nicest thing I could have hit him with."

 

_Good point.  I'm a bastard and I bloody well deserved it- not that I'll ever tell her that.  She hexed me and frankly she will pay for that in one way or another._

 

"I don't care what he said to you- that's Ron.  He always goes off half-cocked, says something stupid, and eventually he apologizes for the lot of it.  You know that.  You've always known that."

 

_I do not do that!  Merlin, he makes it seem like I'm an inconsiderate git.  Well, I may be sometimes, but not always._

 

I tried to roll over to get into a more comfortable position, before I realized she still had not released the spell which held me in place.  

 

"That's no excuse!  Besides, he was going to leave and that was the only thing I could think of to do.  He's only been there for four hours; I doubt he's even awake."

 

_Think again, sweetheart._

 

"It doesn't matter if he's awake.  It matters that you did it at all.  Why didn't you just come and get me?"

 

_I can't believe he's defending me like this...  it's completely unexpected!_

 

"Come and get you?  Come and get you?  He was still inside me!  What did you want me to do- call out your name while I'm still technically shagging him?  ‘Harry, come here, I need you'?   Yeah, I'm sure that would have made it better for all of us!"

 

_Oh, thank Merlin she didn't do that.  I think my heart might actually have stopped if she did that!_

 

"Don't take that tone with me!  It's just that-"

 

"It's just that what?  You wanted me to come to you- my lover- after I had just made love to another man?"  Hermione's voice sounded shrill and I feared her shortly losing control.  "And you do remember that he is the man who just happens to have been your best mate since you were eleven?  Do you also remember that not six hours ago, he was the man who you basically gave me permission to shag?  That's what you wanted me to do, come get you?" 

 

_Ouch!  She's got a point mate.  Damn if she doesn't always have a point._

 

"Well, that's what happened anyways!  You ran back into my arms.  I had to hold you while you cried, knowing you had just made love to him!  What would the difference have been if you came to me twenty minutes earlier?"

 

_Fuck.  She went straight back to him- ran into his willing arms...  What, no response, my love?  Or maybe she was just too quiet for me to hear...  Yeah, there it is- sounds like she's mumbling something back to him._

 

"You think I don't know that?" Harry exploded again.  "I told you that I loved you and I understood what you needed to do.  I basically told you to go back to him, despite how much I didn't want you to.  Do you think that giving you my blessing made it any easier being able to hear everything that happened in our bedroom?  You forgot to put up a Silencing spell, _love-_ you didn't care for my feelings enough to remember something as important as that!"

 

_Oh, shite!  He could hear everything?  As much as I hate him right now, I actually wish I could take that kind of pain away from him.  We both know what it's like to love her and know she belongs to someone else...  Fuck, everything about this situation is wrong._

 

I could hear her crying mournfully and my heart broke just a little more.  I realized with some surprise that Hermione was as much a victim of the situation as Harry and I were.  My overwhelming sense of anger had filtered out that thought, but it snuck through and revealed itself to me suddenly.  

 

_The worst part is that it's entirely my fault.  If I had never left, if I had refused to walk away and made sure we resolved everything, none of this would have happened._

 

More silence.  _Damnit, they need to speak up!_

 

"I do love you!  I don't know what else to say or do to prove that to you.  I'll always love you."

 

_Kill me a little more, love.  Why don't you scream how much you love him from the rooftop next time?  I don't think all of the neighbors heard your proclamation._

 

"It's not a question of whether you love me or not.  I know you love me, but..."  _Bloody silence.  Can't they be polite enough to yell loud enough for me to hear everything?_   "He's my best friend-"

 

"I'm your best friend _and_ your lover!"

 

"Yes, you are, but I'll still lose, won't I?  You're both of those things to him too!"

 

_He'll lose?  Interesting...  I thought Hermione basically made it clear to me that it wasn't just a fuck.  If that's the case, this won't be over as easily as he thinks, no matter how badly I wish that were true._

 

"I know that!  Don't you think I know how bloody fucked up this is?  I feel like I'm about to lose my mind or that I'm going completely crazy.  But please, honey, just don't shut me out."

 

_Honey.  There's that dirty word again._

 

I snorted internally.  It was ironic that I finally got to hear actual curse words coming out of Hermione's lovely mouth and I was preoccupied with her pet name for her lover and my best friend.  The continuing nature of just how fucked up the situation was kept getting better and better.  

 

"It's just the pain, you're not about to lose you mind.  We're just all in pain and it's not going to go away easily.  No matter what, someone will lose."

 

_As angry and hurt as I am, it's going to have to be you, mate.  You being so willing to lose her moments ago- or maybe that was him being resigned to it?- well, that gave me the incentive to fight for her.  She deserves no less than me fighting to be with her._

 

"I don't want anyone to hurt anymore.  I guess that's unavoidable, but..."

 

I could hear her continuing to cry and knew this was killing her.  The entire situation seemed impossible and irreparable to me.  I could not even begin to imagine how horrible she must be feeling in this moment.  

 

Their voices sounded much louder, though I knew they were no longer yelling.  I assumed they were walking by the bedroom on the way to the kitchen or the sitting room.  Whatever they were doing, it made them a lot easier to hear from my spot on the bed.  

 

"I need to know what you want, who you want.  I need to know if the last time I made love to you was just like any other time or if it was the last time I'll ever make love to you."  

 

"I don't know.  I just- I just...  I just don't know.  I wish there was something I could say, I wish that I could tell you something, but I'm just so confused right now.  I feel like nothing I knew only hours ago is true anymore and I don't even recognize my life right now.  Everything changed the instant he came home, and yet...  I still just don't know.  I'm so sorry."

 

_She seems to be saying that a lot tonight._

 

I wait to hear his response, but I could not hear them anymore.  Thoughts flooded my mind as I tried to imagine different solutions which would miraculously make us all happy.  

 

_Fuck, there's no way.  Honestly, we can't share her- I'm not strong enough for that!  Short of sharing her, I can't see any way for us all to win in this situation._

 

I knew somebody was going to hurt and I wanted so badly for it to not be me.  I hated the idea that if it wasn't me hurting, it would be Harry.  Either way, my love, well, _our_ love, would probably agonize over her decision.  

 

_Of course,_ I mused, _it would have to be Harry who answered the door in the middle of the night.  Harry, the one bloke who I can't properly fight for her._

 

I hated to admit that the situation was somewhat my own making- I had pushed her into his arms.  That much was abundantly clear.  

 

_But she pushed me away!  We were both trying to recover and get back to a normal life, whatever that is, and she pushed me away._

 

That day at our flat, the day I left, had replayed in my mind over and over again as the worst day of my life.  

 

_That wasn't how it was supposed to happen!  This wasn't how I pictured my life._

 

I knew that no matter what happened between the three of us now, Hermione and I had some unfinished business to address.  

 

Before my mind got stuck in the dangerous waters of our shared past, I forced my thoughts to the present.  I thought about my love, who had given me so much, long before we had ever found the courage to love each other openly.  I thought of her spirit- so passionate, so capable, so genuine.  It had taken me a long time, and strong pushes from every one of my siblings, including Harry, to finally feel I was worthy of her.  I honestly believed I could never match her brilliance and thought she deserved a bloke who could.

 

_The only problem was that I hated anyone who wanted to prove he was worthy of her._

 

Once I realized that her happiness was all that mattered to me, I offered myself up to her, with the hope that I could be the one to bring that beautiful smile to her face.  I never truly thought she would choose me to make her happy, but she did and somehow I did and that was enough for me.  

 

My thoughts turned to Harry, who had never questioned my worth, who had always stayed by my side.  Harry was my best friend, one of my heroes, my teammate.  Harry truly was my brother, in word, action, and spirit.  I had been his second and he had been mine in anything that had ever mattered.  I had vowed to keep him from harm and to see him safely through the war.  All I had ever wanted for him was to see him happy, without the weight of the world on his shoulders.  

 

_Huh!_   I thought suddenly.  _All I ever wanted for both of them was their happiness- it's what makes me feel happy and fulfilled._

 

The deeper level of my conflict suddenly became crystal clear:  _Of course she ended up with Harry, and on some level, I'm happy about it!_

 

I had always thought my two best friends were perfect for each other- brilliant in ways that complimented each other.  Harry had been the one man whom I had ever thought could somehow deserve my love's attention and affection.  When he had gotten together with Ginny, I had been thrilled and relieved that he was no longer a viable option for my love, my Hermione.  

 

With a heavy heart, I sighed inwardly and set my mind.  I loved her enough to want her happiness, even if it wasn't with me as her lover.  I loved her enough to set her free if that was what she wanted from me.  

 

_We'll just let her decide who she wants, who she needs.  Well, who she wants the most.  It's clear that she wants, needs, and loves both of us._

 

I resolved to tell her that I would respect her decision, whatever it was, once she and Harry returned.  My ears perked up at the sound of the door opening and suddenly I could move again.

 

She was a beautiful vision and she was upon me before I had even realized she had crossed the bedroom.  "It's always been you," she said breathily as she sat astride my still-naked thighs.  

 

_Okay, this I can work with!_

 

"Tell me you never loved him as much as you love me," I demanded, leaning forward and kissing her neck.

 

My hands roamed freely down her body, clutching her tightly to me.  One arm anchored firmly behind her back, I yanked her mouth towards mine.  

 

"Tell me," I demanded again, my lips hovering mere centimeters from hers.  

 

_Please.  Oh, please._

 

"Never.  There's never truly been anyone besides you."

 

I claimed her lips and clung to her, taking back what was rightfully mine, what I had very nearly lost.  _I can't believe I actually walked away from this, from her._

 

I nibbled her lower lip somewhat roughly, insisting that she open to me, give me her all.  She gasped slightly and I took advantage, once again learning the contours of her mouth.  My hands found the knot at the front of her dressing gown and held steadily.

 

"Tell me," I said breaking the kiss, "that you love me."  _I need to hear the words._

 

"Yes," she responded heavily.  "I love you so much it hurts."

 

My hands untied her dressing down at her words and slid it down her shoulders.  She and I were bare to each other, in body and soul.  I pulled her forward and held her aloft, her invitingly warm, wet folds hovering inches above me.  

 

I spoke once again.  "Tell me.  Tell me you're mine and will always be only mine."

 

I held her above my body, though she was swiveling her hips and trying to envelop me inside her body.  My whole life hung in the balance, waiting for her answer.  She leaned forward slightly and smiled widely.  

 

_Oh, thank Merlin.  I'd know that smile anywhere.  She's mine, she's mine!_

 

"I'm yours.  I'll always be yours.  And you- you will always be mine."

 

I didn't even wait for her to finish claiming me, I just plunged upward inside her and pulled her flush with my chest.  I held her close to me, intimately joined and unmoving, yet again savoring this moment that I lived for.  _Home._

 

"My favorite part," I whispered honestly.  

 

"I know, and I love you for it."

 

We began to move languidly, no haste in our movements, no great rush toward completion.  I moved slowly within her, and she within me, feeling the exquisite pleasure of sliding together, flesh upon flesh.  She never allowed me to fully pull out of her body, refusing to tolerate even an inch of space between us.  I clutched her bum and kneaded it; I stroked her tongue with my own.  Despite the slowness of our lovemaking, I could feel my orgasm rising and I knew she was close.  

 

"Ron!  Ron?"  Startled, I looked up into her brown eyes and was instantly confused.  

 

"Ron, I'm going to release you, but I need you to promise you won't leave.  You can't Apparate from here, as I'm sure you remember, and I'm willing to hex you again if I think you're going to run.  Please don't make me do it."

 

_A dream.  A damn, fucking, bloody dream.  It was a dream.  Damnit._

 

I felt my muscles loosen and my eyelids wearily closed in relief of being open for so long.  Keeping my eyes closed, I took a deep breath and readied myself for an unpleasant conversation.  Opening my eyes, I was surprised to see tears streaming silently down my love's face.  

 

"Ron, I'm so sorry.  I was just so scared you were going to leave me again," she whispered sadly.  

 

_Oh, Merlin.  She's terrified I'll take off again.  I'm such a wanker to have done this to her._

 

"Hush."  I sat up and let muscle memory and instinct take over, forgetting any anger which had previously thrummed through my body.  I cradled her head against my neck and stroked her hair and back.  "I understand, really I do."  I found that I really did believe my words, though I had no idea how it was possible.  "Sometimes I make rash decisions; I know you were cornered and had to act quickly." 

 

"You're- you're not mad at me?" she asked cautiously and slowly pulled her head back from my neck.  I felt a little empty at the distance she created, and held onto her waist.  

 

_I miss her.  I don't know how I'll ever let her go if she chooses Harry._    

 

"No, I'm not mad at you for hexing me.  I'm not mad about anything, I'm just frustrated and scared and hurting.  I imagine I'm not the only one, yeah?"

 

She nodded at me, as though she was afraid to speak and bring up the unpleasantness of my homecoming.  

 

"Hermione, love, much as I want to stay here and forget that everything isn't easy, I know there's loads we have to talk about.  I feel like we need to talk about everything that happened before I left, because I know that we weren't being entirely honest with each other.  Can we maybe start there?"

 

She nodded again, looking surprised that I was willingly trying to talk to her about everything.  She was looking at me with...  respect, I realized with a start.  

 

_Maybe there is something to this honesty thing and being willing to share my feelings.  Hell, I would have tried this two years ago if I had known she would have given me that look._

 

"After that, the three of us should sit down calmly and rationally and talk about... our situation.  I know it won't be pleasant, but I know we all have some thoughts on the matter.  Before you protest, just let me tell you that I heard about half of your conversation with Harry because you two were yelling so loudly.  But, we'll get to that a little later.  Is this okay, Hermione?"

 

She still looked surprised and I raised my eyebrows at her in inquiry, a silent request for her acquiescence.    

 

"I- wow, Ron, I really don't know what to say.  You've really matured.  I'm sorry I ever doubted that we would be able to sit down and talk like adults.  Whenever you're ready, I'm ready to talk and I'm ready to listen."   

 

I took a deep breath and gathered my thoughts before beginning.  

 

_This is going to be a very long conversation._

***** Love it? Hate it? I'd love to know what you're thinking! Thanks, Risie


	5. Chapter 5 - Memories of a Lifetime Ago

  
Author's notes: A/N:  


* * *

*****

 

 

_“I’ll always love you,” she said breathlessly, as we pulled back from our kiss._

 

_“Promise me nothing will ever come between us again,” I voiced my fear.  I kept my gaze on hers, refusing to back down on this most important point._

 

_I had always had a hesitation when it came to her, but I couldn’t let that fear run my life anymore.  I valued her place so much in my life.  The thought of not having all of her was physically painful to me.  I could no longer live being just her friend, just a mate.  I had to be her everything, my whole body fought for that possibility._

 

_“Ron, you know I can’t promise that.  There’s a war going on and we don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, much less-”_

 

_I stopped her mouth with my own, refusing to let reality intrude on the moment I had waited for.  I had wanted her since fourth year at school, admitted it to myself in fifth year, and had been terrified for two years after.  In this moment, I wanted to think of nothing but how she was finally mine and how soft her lips were._

 

_My tongue made a pass at hers and our playful duel began.  Years of pent-up frustration continued to surface, memories and imaginings fueling the passion:  her kissing Krum and McLaggen, me kissing Lavender, her ignoring me for months, me believing she could never love me._

 

_I broke our kiss and demanded of her again: “Promise me we’ll never let anything come between us again.”_

 

_I was practically begging her, but I didn’t care- this was too important to let go without the words.  If things had been assumed with Lavender, I wanted things set in stone with Hermione.  I needed something I could hold onto, even if I couldn’t always hold onto her, which would get me through the cold nights and long years of the impending war._

 

_“I’ll promise you if you make me the same promise.”  Her glassy brown eyes locked onto my own, begging me to give her the same I demanded of her.  Tit for tat, how very like us, needing to be equal._

 

_“I promise.  I love you too damn much to let anything come between us.”  I looked at her expectantly, waiting for her to complete our covenant._

 

_“I promise.  I’ll never willingly let anything separate us.”_

 

_We came together again, both knowing we had promised something we couldn’t honestly give, but not truly focusing on that dimension of the vow.  We couldn’t hope to predict the future.  Despite our mutual promise built upon a lie, I felt immensely better.  As I pulled her closer, I_ _savoured the vow we had just made to each other._

 

_Every kiss was a confirmation of our love.  Every sigh and moan was an agreement to see each other through the times ahead.  Every slide of the tongue and the accompanying tremor was a promise to love no other, to fight for our shared future._

 

_“Hermione, love?  I need your help with--”_

 

_“Oh, sorry.  Well, well, well.  Look what we have here.  Finally did something about it, did you Ron?  Good on you.  And you, Hermione, you look well and thoroughly snogged.  It’s about bloody time.”_

 

_Harry had walked in, looking gleefully delighted to have unintentionally interrupted us mid-snog._

 

_He clapped my shoulder, kissed her forehead, and grinned widely.  I smiled at the easy affection which always seemed to be present between my two best friends.  If anything, they had been comfortable with each other ages before I ever got the courage to attempt casual friendly touches with Hermione._

 

_“Ginny?  Hon, you better get in here!”  I groaned at Harry’s words, knowing the spell had been broken, the moment was over._

 

_“Potter, you wanker, can’t you see this is a private moment?”  I teased him, though there was no real spite in my tone._

 

_“Uh-uh.  I’ve been waiting for this moment for far too long- we need to celebrate.  It’s not everyday my two best mates finally stop being so pigheaded.”  Harry flicked his wand and summoned some butterbeer from the kitchen.  It soared neatly through the door just before Ginny walked into the room._

 

_“Harry, do you really think that’s necessary?”  There was my Hermione, ever the diplomatic and demure presence amongst us._

 

_“Yes, love, I do-”_

 

_Harry’s response was cut off by Ginny’s high-pitched squeal.  Ginny pulled Hermione out of my arms and hugged her hard, still squealing.  The two girls giggled, hugged, and cried together.  I raised my eyebrow at Harry who smiled widely back, as if to say ‘we really are lucky, aren’t we?’_

 

_“I can’t believe it,” Ginny was exclaiming, “it’s just so wonderful.  And it’s about damn time.  Well done, you two!  Oh, Hermione, we really will be sisters someday.  I always knew it would happen, once this git got off his arse.”_

 

_I rolled my eyes, but inwardly was very pleased at how quickly and easily the news had come out.  Frankly, I hadn’t had to have any awkward conversations or to think about what to say.  It was a blessing in disguise that Harry had disrupted our first snog._

 

“Ron?” she asked me softly, as though she somehow knew she was intruding on a memory.

 

_If only she really would intrude on a memory, maybe we could somehow get back there._

 

I realized we were still sitting on her bed facing one another.  My hands were clasped over hers, my right index finger tracing light lines on the back of her left wrist.  I shook my head, cleared my throat, and looked up at her.  My hands never stopped holding onto her, anchoring her to me.

 

“Sorry, I was just lost in a memory of a lifetime ago.  Do you remember the night I finally got up the courage to tell you I loved you?”

 

_Of course she does.  What a daft question!_

 

“Of course I do.  I could never forget- nor would I ever want to.”

 

Her words flooded me with love and something I almost didn’t dare name- hope.

 

“Then you must remember our promise to each other.  We broke that promise long before I ever left-”

 

“Ron, we never should have made that promise,” she interrupted me.  “We had no right making such a vow.  We made it knowing we might not be able to keep it with the war and-”

 

“Don’t ever say that again, Hermione.  Don’t ever say we shouldn’t have made that promise!  That promise, and what it meant about our future life together, was the only thing that kept me sane.  That promise is what got me through the war, through everything…” I trailed off, pain evident in my tone, tears progressively starting their rise to the surface of my eyes. 

 

_She wishes she never made me that promise.  How could she want that?_

 

“I just meant that we never knew what was going to happen…  That promise kept me alive, you know?  I knew that no matter what did happen, I would always have you and you would always have me, war be damned.”

 

“But, love,” her eyes closed at my endearment, “we made it through the war and then broke our vow.  What happened to us?  To me? To you?”

 

I felt my eyes finally fill with the building tears and let them slowly fall, one by one, down my cheeks, unbidden.  I didn’t even try to stop them from releasing.  One salty teardrop pooled at the corner of my mouth and my tongue reached out to catch it.  I tasted the salt which was being poured on my exposed wounds.  Despite the pain, I savoured being able to feel, as opposed to the numbness which had plagued me for the better part of more than two years.  

 

_I know what happened: we drifted apart.  We met our goal, but the price was too high.  We lost everything that had bound us together since age eleven.  Our nearly nine-year quest ended, leaving us unsure of where to go from that point in time, unprepared to live full lives.  She didn’t need me anymore, she outgrew me._

 

Glancing up at her, I saw the familiar salt-water talismans of pain travelling down her lovely cheeks as well.  One slid down her neck and continued a slow trek to the valley of her breasts.  Oh, how I wanted to follow that droplet’s lead and bury myself in her, surround myself with her warmth.

 

“I didn’t know what to do with myself anymore,” her voice startled me out of my desirous musings.

 

She continued, seeming to be talking to herself as much as to me, her eyes distant and hooded.  “All I had wanted and worked for was suddenly over.  I didn’t know who I was without our fight for the future.  The future arrived and I wanted to hide from it.  I was scared.”

 

_I’ll be damned.  We felt the same.  If only we had turned to each other instead of both turning inward- all of this could have been avoided!  Is that really possible?_

 

“I was scared too, I wanted you to talk to me, but you threw yourself into your work.  I thought you knew something I didn’t about moving on- hell, you always seemed to know something I didn’t.  I assumed that if you were getting on with a normal life, whatever that meant, well, that must be what I was supposed to do.”

 

I took a deep breath before ploughing onward.  “I still loved you more than anything, but I thought I would lose you if I showed you my hesitance to move forward.  I thought you might feel like you had outgrown me, because I was stuck in our past trauma.  Actually, I really believed- honestly thought- that you had outgrown me, that you deserved better than me…”

 

She glanced up sharply at these words, angry tears in her eyes.  

 

“Don’t you dare, _ever_ , say that I deserved better than you.  I never want to hear it ever again, you hear me, Ronald Weasley?” she asked, enraged at me, her tone shrill.  “I was lucky to ever have you- blessed to have you, to be yours.  If anything, you deserved better-” she held up her palm in front of my lips to disrupt my impending protest.  

 

_She was lucky to have me?  Look at how I treated her and she thinks she was the lucky one!  Anyone who knows her knows that I was truly the lucky one- was, being the operative term._

 

“Please let me say this.  You deserved far better than what I put you through.  I shut you out again.  I promised you, after our lovely disaster of a sixth year, that I would never do that to you again.  But what did I do?  I shut you out- I closed in on myself, away from the bloody world.  I could have done that to anyone else, but I shouldn’t have done it to you.  Don’t you see?” she cried out suddenly.  “It’s my fault you left two years ago.  I pushed you away and I never pulled you back.  That was always our thing.  One of us would push and then we would pull them back into safety.  I pushed you, you pushed back, and I gave up.”

 

_She gave up?  Merlin, I already knew that, but damn it hurts to hear.  The way she says it, you would swear I had conquered her or defeated her… maybe that’s how it felt to her.  Damn._

 

She collapsed into tears, her head bowed, her glorious curls obscuring her face from my view.  Her shoulders were shaking, her body appearing to fight the grief which was finally settling into her heart.  I had come back, but it was not the homecoming she had imagined, probably not by a long shot.  She needed to grieve and mourn for the death of her fantasy-life, for the passing of a far better reality.

 

As her cries filled the room, I marvelled at how similar we truly were.  We both felt our parting had been our own fault, when, in actuality, we each carried a certain burden of responsibility.  We both stopped trying.

 

_We didn’t stop loving each other- that’s important!  Of course, now she loves Harry, too.  I can’t let myself forget that, otherwise it would seem too easy to fix this situation._

 

“Hermione, we’re both to blame.  Don’t take all of it for yourself- even half hurts enough to be plenty of punishment for either of us.”

 

She began to sob more sorrowfully, leaving me helpless to do anything but hold her, rock her, soothe her.  Somehow, it felt completely right and completely wrong to be comforting her in such a manner.  When she had been mine, physical touch seemed to bring a sense of contentment, safety, and serenity to both of us.

 

_But, she’s not mine anymore.  She hasn’t been mine for a long time.  I gave her up… to my best mate.  Merlin, how could I be so fucking thick?_

 

I wanted to hold her forever, wanted her to fall asleep in my arms, but I needed to get away from her.  She was killing me slowly, and I could hardly bear the ache in my chest.  It was an ache that we were both familiar with in this moment, but it seemed as though I would never breathe properly again.  

 

“I feel like such a child right now.”

 

“Why, love?”

 

“I’ve just collapsed into your arms, sobbing my heart out, and all because I was- I am lost!  How like a child.”

 

“I don’t think it’s childish- it’s human.”  I didn’t know if I should mirror her, if I should give more of myself to her.  It hurt so badly to be so close, yet so far.  “I’m lost, too,” I said quietly.  It hurt to say, hurt to admit, though I had the suspicion she had already known.  

 

“I know.”

 

Simple words, but it meant the world to me to have her still know me so well.  I didn’t need much from her, but I needed to feel some kind of connection.  She knew.  She always knew.  

 

“I know you do.”  

 

I rested my cheek on the top of her head, relishing the feel of her in my arms, appreciating the value of everything she had ever offered me.  The saying is true: you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.  

 

_I’ve been such a fool._

 

Much as I loved the moment I was stealing, I knew it was wrong.  I knew I shouldn’t allow myself to get caught up in adolescent fantasies of sweeping her off her feet and her completely disregarding Harry.  

 

“What do we do now?  What happens later?  What happens tomorrow or next week?”

 

I hated myself for asking.  I hated myself for breaking the spell which had settled so nicely over the bedroom.  I hated myself for giving up one of the few moments of peace I had experienced in far too long.  At that moment, I think I hated just about everything but the woman sitting wrapped up in my arms.  Even she was questionable, because I knew she was about to break my heart with her bloody loyalty and love for someone else.  

 

_Harry.  It keeps fucking coming back to Harry.  If it wasn’t him, I wouldn’t hesitate to be selfish.  I just can’t do that because I don’t know what their situation is- even when I do know, I can’t do that.  It’s just not that easy._

 

“I don’t know.  I just don’t know… I don’t really know what there is to be done.  I need to talk to Harry- you need to talk to Harry.”

 

There it was, the fidelity and constancy I had always loved.  Only now it was being directed toward someone else.  It was almost more than I could bear.  

 

“I know I do.”  I pulled my body away from her, gaining physical space away from the source of my joy and pain.  It seemed very odd that the pain seemed to be both decreased and increased from the additional distance between us.  Each inch brought more agony and relief.  I couldn’t even begin to fathom what that was supposed to mean.  

 

_It’s painful to live with her and painful to live without her?  Where’s the solution in that?_     

 

“Maybe we should all sit down and talk together,” she said softly, looking expectantly at me, but I didn’t know what it was she was trying to see in me.

 

“Maybe we should.  I just need to know something.  Do I even stand a chance at happiness anymore?  Is there any hope that we can all somehow be happy beyond this colossal mess we’ve all helped to create?”

 

I knew it was risky asking something so weighty, knew I had given her both my heart and the dagger to drive into it.  I guess my damned drive to know where I stood was too strong.  

 

“Oh, Ron.”  She sighed very deeply and my heart plummeted.  “There’s always hope.  We all just have to hold onto the belief that things will work out the way they are meant to.”

 

_What the hell is that supposed to mean?_

 

I realized I needed to get away from the situation, wanted to gain a bit of fresh perspective.  A new view was not going to happen if I stayed at the scene of the crime- well, crimes, really.  I decided to head home to the Burrow to face the music.  

 

_Might as well see how angry my family is with me.  It’ll probably be easier to get them to forgive me than to sort out this mess right now._

 

I knew my family would be upset that I had basically ignored them for two years.  However, I had the feeling they would understand once I explained to them my reasons.  Sure, they weren’t great reasons, but I knew they were valid.  My family already knew a lot about what I had seen in the war and what I had done.  They knew I was haunted by memories and nightmares.  I knew I could help them to see those things had overwhelmed me and what happened with Hermione made me snap.  

 

_I needed a fresh start- a new beginning._

 

My family members always did things in their own ways, each knowing what was the right path to see them back to the main road.  I just had to remind them that this had been my path and I had needed to take it- consequences be damned.  Sure, I might regret how long it took me to come home, but I was bloody well relieved to be back.

 

“Actually, before we all sit down to chat, I think I need to talk to my family first, get some fresh air.  I need to clear my head.  Perhaps talking to one of them will help me come to terms with how different everything is- I mean, if they’ve accepted you two…  maybe they can somehow help me to accept it as well.”

 

“They’ve accepted us two?” she asked me.  “Accepted us two what, Ron?” she said as though she really had no clue what I was talking about.  

 

“You know.  Whatever it is you two have.  Actually, that would really help me to know.  What exactly are you two now, technically speaking?”

 

“What are we?  I guess I can’t say in just a few words.  It’s complicated.  Really complicated.  It’s just recently gotten more complicated.  Then tonight even more so….” she trailed off.  She looked like she was searching for the piece to a complex jigsaw puzzle, her face full of concentration.  

 

“Ron, about your family…  they don’t know.  Harry and I- we never told them about us.  I mean, they knew he officially moved in here, but nothing else.  We didn’t know how to bring it up.”

 

_What?  Did she really just say that?_

 

I was gobsmacked.  Absolutely flabbergasted.  Completely floored.  Of all of the things I thought she might say, her confession knocked me clean off of my feet.  It would never have occurred to me that my sweet, honest, straightforward Hermione could have done anything but tell my family the truth about their changed relationship.       

 

“They have no idea that you two- that you two…”  I couldn’t even bring myself to complete my thought about what they were doing together and what they meant to each other.  

 

“If they suspect, they haven’t said anything.  What’s there to say after all?”

 

She was right.  What was there to say when your brother or child leaves and his best friends move on without him, possibly with each other?

 

“Listen, Ron, about Harry and me-”

 

A shrill voice interrupted Hermione just then and I knew I was in for it.  

 

“Where is he, Harry?  You said he was here!  Where is he?”

 

I would know that voice anywhere.  That was the voice which had rung in my ears throughout my childhood, letting me know when I had done wrong.  That was the voice which could simultaneously cause fear and relief to flood my body.  That was the voice of the only person whom I could honestly say I never felt ashamed to cry openly in her arms.  That was the voice of someone who sounded both extremely excited and exceedingly hacked off-- my mum.

 

_Oh, shite.  This promises to be an interesting reception.  Oh, shite._

 

*****

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	6. Chapter 6 - A Real Homecoming

  
Author's notes: A/N:  


* * *

“Fuck!”

 

_Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

 

I quickly rose off the bed, suddenly aware that I had been naked throughout our entire conversation.  I knew I should be worried about covering myself, but after hearing my mother’s voice in the hallway, modesty was the farthest thing away from my mind.

 

“Fuck!”

 

_Fuck, shite, damn, fuck!_

 

“Would you stop saying that?” Hermione hissed, as she grabbed my pants and tossed them to me.  

 

“I think it’s a perfectly reasonable thing to say at a time like this,” I retorted angrily.  

 

I pulled my pants on quickly and looked around for my trousers amongst the pile of littered clothes that had been thrown off earlier.  Spotting my trousers hanging by one leg off the wardrobe, I began to cross the room.  Two steps later, I was sprawled on my stomach, after having tripped over one of my shoes.  _Fuck!_

 

“Ow, shite, damnit that hurts!”  I burst out angrily, quickly getting off the floor and wrenching my trousers down from their perch.  I tugged them onto my body and fastened them hastily, fully aware that Harry wouldn’t keep my mother occupied for long.  _This is not going to be pretty._

 

I whirled around at the sound of muffled laughter.  Hermione stood there, one hand attempting to stifle her mirth while the other was holding my jumper out to me.  _Merlin, she’s beautiful when she laughs.  No, stop it!  No more.  I can’t keep thinking things like this._

 

“’Think this is funny, do you?” Hermione continued to chuckle into her palm, barely restraining herself any further.  “Stop that!  It’s not funny.  As if this hasn’t been the worst version of my homecoming I could have ever imagined, now my mother’s come to box my ears.”  

 

Hermione’s glee abruptly stopped at my words, the gravity of the moment suddenly hitting her.  Our short visit into the mistakes of the past was over for now, because I needed to deal with the very real and present consequences of being gone for two years.  Despite how unpleasant the impending conversations could be, I found myself glad to have the excuse to finish our painful discussion.  I needed space before I could try to take in anything else she could possible tell me.

 

Additionally, I needed to focus on apologising to my family for being gone so long and hope they could truly forgive me.  _Of course they’ll forgive me, but I need to prove to them how necessary this was for me to realise what I have in them._   I was prepared to grovel at their feet, because family, in one sense or another, really was the reason I had returned after all.  

 

“Time to face the music, I guess,” I said softly as I pulled my jumper over my head.  I could still hear my mother’s semi-frantic voice in the other room and Harry’s voice soothing her.  _Harry._   I sighed deeply as a disturbing thought came to mind.  

 

“Hermione?  Did you call my mother?” I asked as I quickly pulled on my socks and began to lace up my trainers.  

 

“No, I didn’t.  It must have been Harry.  I’m sure he was just worried about you leaving again and thought you wouldn’t if your family was here to greet you.  I’m sure that’s it.  What other reason could there be?  I mean, he must have been wanting them to get to see you as soon as possible and when he saw you, he called right away because-”  I interrupted her as I felt anger rising in my chest.

 

“You’re rambling.  We both know that’s not why he called.  You can stop defending him for one second.  I get it, okay?  Your loyalties are to him now.  I get that.  But do you have to rub it in my face?”  I heard her gasp at my angry words, though she shouldn’t have been surprised- I had always had a sharp tongue, especially when I was upset.  _Can’t she see how badly it hurts me when she immediately takes up his defence?_   I started to feel as though my blood was beginning to boil.  I could see the small heat bubbles rising in my mind, my anger simmering away in my chest.  

 

I stood up and cast one last look around the room, checking to make sure that I had gotten all of my clothes.  _I wonder if this is the last time I’ll ever be in this room?_  

 

“I guess maybe someday we can try to find the time to finish this?  I think we got to most of the important stuff anyways, yeah?” There was so much that had been left unsaid, but I felt the need to protect myself, to not show her that I wasn’t feeling resolved and I didn’t have the closure I needed.  

 

“Oh, Ron, I…  I really appreciate how mature you were when we were talking.  I would truly like to finish this, but sooner rather than later.  Please don’t cut yourself off from me.  I miss you.”  She sounded so sad that I almost believed her, but my resentment refused to let me care too deeply in that moment.  

 

“But I’m right here,” I said glibly, as though my heart weren’t breaking and my whole life laying shattered in pieces around my feet.  _Okay, you can do this.  Just walk out that door.  Don’t turn around._ I smiled sadly, then listened to what my mind was telling me was the right thing to do and headed for the door.  

 

"Ron, I really think you need to know something about Harry and me before-"

 

_Not now.  If I have to listen to this now, I’ll never survive to see my family.  I can’t do this now!_

 

I stopped in front of the door and took several deep breaths.  I had to convince myself not to turn around, though I had to admit to being so much more tempted than I would have liked to be.  I braced my hand on the cool wood of the door, kept my head facing forward, and reaffirmed my inner strength and resolve to leave this room in one piece.    

 

"Hermione, I can't deal with anything else right now, okay?  Nothing.  Not one more thing.  It’s enough for now, don’t you think?  I'm already trying to handle the fact that you've moved on, with my best friend, and that it's mostly my fault for him being obsessed with comforting you.  My sister was left broken hearted, and heaven knows the three of us were not there to comfort her like we should have been.”  

 

I took a deep breath and continued.  “You and I pushed each other away after the War and I never healed from that, and on top of it all, you've been lying to my family about your relationship with Harry.  So, now I can't even talk to any of them about what I'm feeling, because they don't know.  Please, don't give me anything else I couldn't possible deal with right now, especially when I have no one to talk to about any of it."  I spoke quickly and firmly, trying to convey that it wasn't so much a request as it was a demand to leave me alone for a while.

 

I turned my head away from the door and caught sight of the shining tears filling her eyes.  I almost turned fully around to hug her.  I nearly turned around and gave in to her, offering her my support, my comfort, my love.  I almost gave her everything.  I almost committed my entire heart and mind and future to her, knowing that I could never again truly have all of her.  I almost kneeled before her and begged her to leave Harry for me and to make me whole again, make me alive again.  

 

_It would be so easy to give in.  I could just fall back into her._

 

Almost, but not this time.  This time it hurt too badly.  This time I couldn't ignore the pain thrumming in my chest.  This time I wouldn't let her heartache eclipse mine because, for once, I finally felt I deserved to cry.  I deserved to kick and scream and flail my arms and legs about and throw things while sobbing.  I had earned my pain and heartache, brought plenty of it on myself, but I had earned my right to mourn for the loss of my future.  This time, I merely turned my head back toward the door and placed my hand on the knob.

 

“You can get some comfort from Harry once I’ve left.  I’m sorry, but it’s just not something I can give you right now.  I don’t have the strength for it.  It hurts too damn much.”

 

I refused to turn my head, to take one last look.  A stifling quiet invaded the room and I knew it was time to leave, to get the space I was craving and dreading.  I drew a deep, strengthening breath, resolutely twisted the knob, and walked away from the sanctuary of my old room, my old life.  

 

As soon as I left the pregnant silence, my ears were assaulted with a loud shriek as my mother spotted me from across the room.  “Ron!” she screamed and vaulted herself off the couch and into my arms.  She clutched at me as though she would never let me go, as though she couldn’t bear to ever be apart from me again.  I could feel her tears leaking onto my neck, but I didn’t care.  “Oh, Ronnie, my Ronnie,” she kept repeating, as though she didn’t quite believe I was truly there in front of her.  

 

_Home.  This is what I’ve been missing.  This is how it should have felt last night._

 

I bent down and wrapped my arms around my Mum, returning her hug as I never had before.  I tightened my arms, I pulled at her, I refused to straighten up for even a moment.  Tears poured easily from my eyes and I didn’t give them a second thought, because I knew they were mingling with hers.  I was finally home and feeling the love of a woman who had never failed to need me, who had never stopped loving me, who always managed to make me _feel_ loved, even when she was angry.  _I have never needed her more than I need her right now,_ I realised with sudden clarity.

 

“Mum,” I croaked, my voice cracking.  I wanted to say so much, I wanted to tell her how badly I missed her, how my life hadn’t been right without her in it.  I yearned to sleep and have her stroke my back and my hair and tell me that it was all a nightmare, that I hadn’t been away from her for so long, that I hadn’t come back to a life I could no longer recognise.  I wanted her to promise me that everything wasn’t as bleak as it seemed, that she and I would somehow find a way to put the shattered pieces back together into a whole, that I wouldn’t always be broken.  

 

Instead, I simply said, “I love you so much.”  She cried harder into my shoulder and I embraced the sensation of actually feeling something positive, of not being stuck in either numbness or pain.  

 

_How did I ever survive without this?_

 

Without breaking the contact, I walked her backwards toward the sofa, and then set us both down onto the cushions.  I rocked her gently back and forth, shushing her softly, reassuring her I would never leave again.  I closed my eyes and allowed myself to relax into the moment and appreciate the homecoming I had been waiting for.  

 

“Mum, shh, I’m here now.  I’m not leaving again, I swear.  I will never do something that stupid again.  Shh, I’m home, I’m finally home.”

 

She took in great, resounding breaths and I could feel the shaking in her body slowly subsiding.  I continued to rub her back with one arm and hold her tightly with the other.  My head still hadn’t left the warmth and safety of her shoulder and her soft hair.  I breathed in the scent of my family and the Burrow and something so intrinsically my Mum.  

 

“Mum?  Can we go home now?  I don’t think I can wait much longer.”  

 

She snuffled loudly into my neck and her cries quieted significantly.  She nodded and relief flooded my body.  Though I had been back for hours, I didn’t think I would truly feel safe and welcomed until I was with my family.  I needed to be away from the mess I had inadvertently created by both leaving and returning.  

 

I pulled back and looked into my Mum’s eyes for the first time in two years, seeing the love and wisdom I had known in them my entire life.  I smiled and closed my eyes instinctually, letting the relief and warmth rush over me, inundating my body in a rush.  She put her head back onto my shoulder and continued to cry.

 

I looked up and caught sight of Harry and Hermione standing across the room watching our small reunion.  Hermione was crying and Harry looked genuinely torn, perhaps wanting to comfort Hermione, maybe wanting to join in on the reunion.  

 

_Not yet.  I’m not ready for that, no matter how much I love him.  I’m not ready to talk without wanting to hit him._

 

I met Harry’s eyes momentarily and he had the decency to look guilty, because we both knew he had dual motives in calling my Mum.  I raised an eyebrow at him and his gaze dropped to the floor, his head slightly hanging.  I knew my original suspicions had been true.

 

Sure, I believed what Hermione said about him calling Mum because he was so worried I would leave again.  I had no doubt that was true, as now that I had seen her, there was no chance that I would leave.  She wouldn’t let me leave and I would never survive the separation again.  _No, never again._

 

However, there was a much more selfish and sinister reason for Harry alerting my Mum to my return.  I felt that this was his way to assert that he wasn’t going down without a fight.  He interrupted the important conversation that Hermione and I were having, because he must have felt vulnerable about what we were deciding without him.  In a way, it seemed as though he was defending his territory against the invasion of a quasi-enemy.

 

_Fuck, it doesn’t matter who gets her- we’ve both already lost something._

The thought that Harry and I were now engaged in a battle that neither of us wanted to win and neither of us wanted to lose pained me so deeply that tears suddenly sprung back into my eyes.  I was almost frustrated with myself for being so emotional and not maintaining my strength, but feeling my Mum’s arms still holding me, it didn’t feel important anymore.  

 

I glanced at Hermione and her tears begot more of my own, because we both knew this was an ending of sorts.  This was the true end of innocence, of the hope that things could easily be cut and dried and set to rights.  I understood that her tears were a paradox of feelings: happiness for my return, regret for what my return meant, joy for Harry’s relief at having his best friend return, sadness for Harry seeing her yearn for me, disappointment in Harry and me for gearing up to fight for her, despair for how deeply we would all be scarred from this.  

 

_A person could go mad feeling so many things at once!_

 

It was too much for me to bear.  Her eyes were begging me to understand her, to forgive her, to not walk away angry.  It seemed that sometime in the night, I had remembered how to read her glances.  I remembered the communication we used to effortlessly have without any words uttered, the communication I had envied when I had witnessed it between her and Harry last night.  _I guess we can all still understand each other’s thoughts, even with the time and distance between us._   

 

I looked at her and tried to convey to her my regret for having caused her more heartache.  I tried to show her that I needed to retreat for a while, that I couldn’t do this right now.  I wanted so badly for her to know that even though I said I couldn’t do this, I still needed her so deeply that I would do almost anything to fix this situation.  _Merlin, I really would do anything to make her mine again, but it’s just not that easy._   I smiled sadly at her and nodded to Harry, silently giving her permission to help him through this when I left, a confirmation of what I had said earlier.  

 

I turned back to my mother and grinned broadly, a true smile of contentment with her presence.  My love life and friendships may have been falling apart right before my eyes, but I still had the love of a woman who was relentless in her pursuit of my happiness.

 

“Mum, let’s go home,” I said decisively.  I nudged her up and shifted her so that she was nestled into my side.  She still clung onto me as though I might slip through her fingers and disappear if she relinquished even an inch of space from me.  I walked us over to the fireplace and pulled the lid off from the jar of floo powder.  I grabbed a handful, ready to see my childhood home, my sanctuary from the storm.

 

“Goodbye, dears.  Thank you for calling me.  Come to dinner tomorrow night at the Burrow- same as every week, okay?  We’ll make a homecoming meal for Ron and it won’t be complete without you!  We’ll see you tomorrow.  Promise me?”  My Mum couldn’t possibly know how much I wanted her to not offer to let them come to my sanctuary.  

 

Harry and Hermione both nodded and then looked at me.  I nodded back tersely, refusing to be the one who threw the first punch, least of all in front of my mother.  If I understood the signals correctly, we would be talking again at some point tomorrow evening, starting to sort out the mess.  _How can we possibly even start?_

 

I threw the handful of floo powder into the fireplace, said “the Burrow” loudly, and stepped away from my love and my best friend, simultaneously devastated and relieved to be away from their presence.  A warm wind, spinning, blurry images, and finally we stumbled out of the hearth in the living room of my childhood home.  _Home.  I’m finally here!_   

 

Almost before I could even straighten myself up, four very loud voices yelled “Surprise!” and I nearly jumped out of my skin in shock.  I jerked my head up to see my family waiting for me, holding onto each other, grinning widely from ear to ear.  My mouth dropped in shock, not quite believing that though I had abandoned them for two years, they were welcoming me back with open arms.  

 

All of a sudden, I ran at them and they ran at me, us crashing into a hug in the middle of the room.  I felt tears again rising to the surface, only these were happy tears, relieved tears, the tears of a man who was finally being held by the arms he had dreamed of for years.  In my joy, I felt a small measure of shame also rising in me, because I remembered the heartache I had put my family through for two years.  _But I’m home now and I’m going to make it right._   I pushed the thought aside, knowing I would need to deal with my guilt and I would spend my life apologising, but overcome by the giddiness flowing through me.  

 

“I’m so sorry everyone, I’m so sorry.  I love you all so much.  I’ve been so stupid.  I’m so sorry,” I was babbling and I knew it, but I couldn’t seem to stop the emotion overwhelming me.  I looked up into the eyes of two of my brothers, my sister, and my parents and saw not one eye dry of emotion.  I saw not one eye angry or disappointed or irritated or infuriated.  I only saw relief and happiness, mischievous sparks of love and life, comfort, _family._   I smiled widely at my surroundings, taking in the familiar people and knickknacks and scents.  

 

“I’m not going anywhere- I swear.  You can give me a little room, I’m not going to run,” I said, attempting a joke, but unsure of whether or not it would be taken as such.

 

“Of course you aren’t going to run,” George began, as my family released me and each other to get some breathing room.  

 

“We’re going to put one of those Muggle tracking devices on your leg,” Fred continued, allowing a light-hearted tone to come through his words.

 

“And we’ll know where you are every second of every day,” Dad said, taking up the joke.

 

“Meaning, if you have to take a piss, we’ll know where you are,” Ginny said with a devilish glint in her eyes.

 

“I swear, if that’s what it takes for you all to forgive me, I would actually let you do it,” I said in an absolutely serious tone, looking directly into the eyes of each family member in turn.  _I mean it, I swear I really mean it._

 

“Ronnie,” my Mum started and I oddly didn’t feel the need to correct her about calling me that, “we are just going to need to adjust.  All of us.  We are thrilled you came home, and yes, we are upset with you.  But we’re your family and we love you.  None of us will ever be able to forget you were gone for all this time, but we’ve long-since come to a decision as a family.  We decided that whenever you did come home, we would welcome you with open arms and forgive you, because what you will do inside of yourself is far worse than anything we could ever allow ourselves to do to you.”

 

“But, when Percy-”

 

“Percy’s a git, and he always has been- no, Mum, I will not stop it!  Percy left us to go off and be an even bigger git.  You left because you were in pain and you forgot that you could turn to us.  Yes, that makes you something of a git as well, but you weren’t doing it to hurt us.  That makes you nothing like Percy,” Ginny finished vehemently.  

 

I stepped forward and pulled Ginny roughly into my embrace, relishing the realisation that she didn’t hate me for my part in the destruction of her relationship.  _Would I ever be able to be that generous?_ I kissed the top of her head and skimmed one hand over her hair and down her back in a soothing arc.  

 

I stooped down a bit and whispered in her ear, “I want to talk to you alone later, yeah?”  I straightened back up, hoping the rest of my family didn’t hear my hushed tones.  She nodded against my chest and squeezed me a little tighter before releasing me.  Her eyes were glistening with tears, the depths showing both a comfort in my return and an indescribable sadness.  My heart tore a bit more, knowing I had contributed to that sadness.

 

Fred and George stepped together as a pair and sandwiched me in a hug between them.  _Merlin, when was the last time I hugged either of them?_ Awkward as the positioning of the hug was, I hadn’t felt more loved by the twins since when I was poisoned in sixth year.  Other than Ginny, I had worried most about their reaction to me leaving, especially given their reaction to Percy’s abandonment of the family.  Fred ruffled my hair teasingly and George clapped me on the back several times.  

 

“I learned some wicked stuff while I was in America- could be great for the store.  Maybe we could all sit down and brainstorm some new products together?”  I had been looking forward to the creative energy the twins always exuded.  _Maybe spending time with them will cheer me up.  At least I’ll have something else to think about other than the mess of my life._

 

“Yeah?  Well, the three of us could meet in the work room at the store after breakfast tomorrow,” Fred said with a smile.

 

“Perfect, that’ll give us a few hours before we need to be back here for Sunday dinner,” George said with an equally wide smile.  

 

I swallowed and tried to ignore the bile threatening to rise at the thought of Sunday dinner with Hermione and Harry.  I nodded my head and squeezed them again.  “Will Bill and Charlie be here tomorrow night?”

 

Fred and George released me and Dad pulled me into a hug.  “Yes,” he said with a tremor in his voice.  “They couldn’t make it on the short notice now, but both will be here tomorrow with their families.  Merlin, Ron, I didn’t think it was possible, but I think you’re even bigger now than when we last saw you!”  He seemed genuinely surprised that I had continued to grow, both up and out.  

 

“Dad, I’m so sorry.  I should have come to you, I should have talked to you, I should have-”

 

“Now, Ron, do you see why none of us are getting angry with you?  You’re already beating yourself up more than you need to.  We know what you maybe _could_ have done.  But, maybe what you did was what you should and needed to do.  You know I think everything happens for a reason.  We just have to find your reason.”  Dad loosened his tight grip on my shoulders and touched my cheek.  It was a gesture so reminiscent of my mother and of my childhood that I couldn’t help but smile.  _He’s still the great guy he’s always been.  I hope someday I’d be like him._   I was still his son and he still loved me, supporting even my poor decisions, refusing to let me hate myself.  

 

“I think your Mum and I would like to talk to you at some point and get caught up on your adventures over the past two years.  I’m sure you want to know all about the changes around here, though I know we wrote to you about anything important.”  His eyes twinkled and I knew I had helped to put that spark there.  The thought made me feel as though I had done something right today.  

 

I nodded my head at his comment, suddenly finding myself wanting nothing more than to be a part of the family again.  In the past, I had always hated how it seemed like everyone knew everything about everyone else and that no one truly kept secrets.  _Didn’t seem to matter how hard we tried, everyone always found things out sooner or later._   Sure, we had little things here and there, but there was no real privacy in a family like mine.  I now understood how lucky I was to have a family that would care enough to want to know about my business and want me to know about their affairs.  

 

Mum ushered me to the couch, kissed my forehead, and promised me a homecoming breakfast of all of my favourite foods.  She bustled out of the room humming to herself in the lovely tone of her voice that I had missed.  

 

Fred and George went to go grab some toast from the kitchen before they needed to get back to the WWW.  They apologised for not being able to stay, but I waved my hand at them and said I understood- it was a Saturday and that was still their busiest day of the week.  A rush of green flame and the two disappeared into the floo.  Dad smiled at me and said he wanted to check the family clock and make sure it was still working.  

 

Ginny had been sitting quietly, nestled into my side, her head resting on my shoulder.  I was reminded of how we would sit quietly in Grimmauld Place during the war, when both of us had difficulty sleeping.  Though we were usually in our own bedrooms, sometimes our paths would cross in the sitting room.  There we would keep each other company, having the best conversations of our lives, but saying hardly more than a handful of words each time.  _Just like when we were kids here at the Burrow._   

 

I looked down and nearly said something, but saw that she was taking a nap against me.  _She looks so much older than the last time I saw her.  She’s really a woman now._   I gently disentangled my arm from around Ginny’s shoulders and leaned her head onto the back of the sofa, pulling a throw across her lap.

 

I sighed lightly and thought about how welcoming, gentle, and warm my family had acted toward me.  I felt so frustrated at myself for failing to see the awesome power my family exuded on a daily basis.  _I should have known they would do anything for me._   The fact that they had made a unilateral decision to not express how hurt they were, but to instead just accept me and move on from my colossal mistake, made me feel even more blessed and yet guilty about my lack of faith.  They truly did know me as well as I knew myself.  They knew the anguish I would put myself through and the lack of self-esteem that continued to plague me.  They were trying to raise me up to how they saw me, instead of how I saw myself.  

 

I left the sitting room and walked toward the kitchen, catching the enticing whiffs of the mouth-watering food Mum was preparing.  Hell, she could have made me cereal and I would have loved it, because it came from her.  She was stirring something on the stovetop and shaking her hips in time with the song she was humming.  She was so typically _Mum_ that I let out a contented chuckle, laughing in sheer enjoyment of something so normal.  

 

She turned around and caught sight of me, grinning in obvious contentment herself.  “Oh, Ronnie.  It’s so good to hear you laugh.  I knew you would come back, but I wasn’t sure if you would ever laugh again, especially when Harry called and said you were there.”  She shook her head to herself and turned slightly back to the stove, to keep stirring the saucepan.  

 

“What do you mean, Mum?” I asked as I crossed the kitchen and grabbed the wooden spoon from her.  She relinquished it right away and moved toward the cutting board, gathering up the potatoes.  I looked at her and could see she knew something she was afraid to say.  “Mum?”

 

“I wasn’t sure what kind of welcome you were going to get from Hermione, dear.  That’s all,” she said and turned back toward the potatoes, flicking her wand at the skins.  

 

“Mum, is that really it?” I asked, not believing that to be the entire truth.  I had the nagging feeling that she knew exactly what I wanted to talk about, but she didn’t want to be the first one to break the silence.  _I know they never told her, but Mum’s smart.  She might not have been fooled._   She seemed to be resolutely ignoring my last question, but I decided to plough onward.  

 

“Actually, you’re right, Mum.  It was hard to come back to her; it was nothing like I had imagined.  I- I- I guess I didn’t realise how much things had changed.”  My voice cracked on the last word and the grief and pain that I had been ignoring was quickly becoming too much for me.  I had been suppressing my heartache consciously, choosing instead to focus on the elation that being with my family gave me.  

 

“Ron, I know it’s hard.  I know,” she said.  She immediately turned and enfolded me into her arms, rocking my body back and forth.  She shushed me lightly and caressed my back as she used to when I was sick or scared.  

 

“No, Mum, you don’t know,” I cried to her, finally letting out the tears that hide themselves in the depths of my soul.  My earlier tears were poor copies of the salt water drops being churned up.  The prior tears were sadness, confusion, frustration, anger, misunderstanding.  These fresh drops were the real tears of my heartbreak, the real symbols of everything that had been broken in me.  _Fuck, it hurts so much.  This could kill me right here._   “You just don’t know.”

 

I felt her pulling me away from the stove and guiding me into a chair around the table, as I had done to her back at Hermione’s flat.  She released one hand and I heard her flick her wand, presumably at the stove, so that nothing burnt.  In an instant, her arms were back around me and I clutched onto her as though she was the strong edge of a fraying rope.  My sorrow begged her to pull me back in, to stop the rope from breaking and dropping me into the abyss.

 

“Oh, my baby boy, I’m so sorry.  I know it hurts,” she said and I knew without looking at her that she was crying with me.

 

“It’s all wrong, Mum.  I don’t know if I can do this,” I sobbed into her hair.  “I know you raised me to b-be stronger than- than- than _this_ , but I can’t help it.  I can’t help it,” I practically yelled through my tears, then howled as the pain hit me particularly hard.  The years of distance, the years of separation, the return to find them together- it was all too much for me.  _I can’t do this!  I can’t get through this!_   

 

“This is your strength and don’t you ever forget it.  If you had remembered two years ago, we wouldn’t have been apart for that time.  You feel things, Ron, you feel them deeply.  You always have.  When you were a child, I always knew that would be your greatest strength and greatest weakness.  You’re letting it out, and it hurts, but this is your strength.  Don’t forget that.”  

 

Mum continued to hold me, running her hand through my hair and stroking my head.  I wanted to believe her, to believe that this was my strength, that this was a good part of me.  I felt so weak and helpless and alone.  _And I am.  I’m alone and it’s my own fault._   I logically knew I wasn’t alone, but I felt so on the outside, so away from everything dear to me.  

 

“I don’t know what to do.  You don’t even know, Mum, you just don’t know.”  I was babbling and blubbering and felt as if I was barely breathing.  

 

“I do know, baby.  I know,” she said and I so badly wanted to believe her.  I wanted to know that I wasn’t alone and I could release this horrible and shameful secret from my burdened shoulders.  

 

“No,” I bawled into her shoulder, convinced that her mother’s intuition understood something was dreadfully wrong, but not the extent of the suffering.  

 

Mum pulled back from me and looked me squarely in the eye, not wavering for even a moment.  “Yes, my baby, I know.  I know about Harry and Hermione,” she said firmly, not allowing the slightest amount of doubt to creep into my mind.  “I know and I’m so sorry.  I’m so very sorry,” she whispered, her tears matching my own.  

 

The droplets streaming down my cheeks were just the beginning.  I clutched her back to me, burying my burning eyes against her.  _Will it ever stop fucking hurting?_   The sobs, which I thought might subside upon hearing that I wasn’t alone, only became louder.  I thought I might get some relief from knowing that I could share my burden with another, but it never came.  

 

“What do I do now?  I don’t know if I can live like this, Mum,” I said, sorrow clouding my voice.  

 

“That I don’t know, baby, I just don’t know,” she replied to me.  

 

She continued to hold me until the sobs wracking through my body receded.  I felt better and worse simultaneously, a strange experience that I was oddly becoming used to, as it was a common thread between my memories of the past day.  _It hasn’t even been a day.  How can so much have happened in less than a day?_   Mum kissed my forehead and released me, saying I would feel a little better once I had eaten something.  

 

_That’s so Mum- when in doubt, eat something!_   

 

I leaned my forehead against the cool wood of the table and waited for my breathing to slow.  The pops and hisses of bacon and potatoes frying filled my ears and then dwindled into the background as sleep overtook me.

 

 

*****

 

  


Reviews are very much appreciated. Thanks! ~Risie


	7. Chapter 7 - Rumination

  
Author's notes:

Thank you to Mench for her quick and careful beta work- she 

* * *

If a Man Answers, Chapter 7

 

 

*****

 

 

_Rub, pause, rub. Sniffle._

 

_Rub, pause, rub. Sniffle._

 

_Rub, pause, rub. Sniffle._

 

I slowly awakened to the smell of what was surely a breakfast feast and the sound of a stifled cry that I would have known anywhere. It was a cry that had roused me from sleep so many times in my childhood, a cry that made my heart twinge with sadness for my oldest companion and friend. _Ginny._

 

I realised that I must have fallen asleep at the table, waiting for Mum to finish making breakfast. Ginny was stroking her hand through my hair and then resting it on my head, repeating her motions over and over again. It was such a soothing gesture, so familiar, so comfortable, so like us that I could feel emotion swelling in my chest. We constantly used to bicker and argue and take the piss out of each other, but there was a deep love that connected us more to each other than to our older brothers. 

 

Oftentimes, people might wonder what someone like me could find so alluring about someone so different from me, someone like Hermione, but I knew what it was- Hermione reminded me of Ginny. _Smart and fiery- stubborn, but kind._

 

_Rub, pause, rub. Sniffle._

 

Instinct made me want to immediately jump up and hug her or do something stupid or funny just to make her laugh. Intuition told me to sit quietly and enjoy the moment I was stealing, because we both needed to feel comforted by each other's presence. I let my intuition win out, selfishly pretending that I was still asleep so I could revel in the experience of being so near to my family. _It's not selfish- it's for her, too. I know she needs to feel that I'm really here and I'm not going anywhere._

 

I thought of how much Ginny must have suffered over the last couple of years, probably almost entirely alone with her feelings and her thoughts. She and Hermione used to be best mates, but I somehow doubted that would have lasted with everything that happened. I wondered what had happened to their friendship. Had they grown apart soon after I left? Had they become more distant as Ginny and Harry's relationship became more strained? Were they still friends once Ginny broke it off with Harry? Did she know about Harry and Hermione? Was she still friends with either of them? 

 

_Rub, pause, rub. Sniffle._

 

I had so many questions and really no answers. I was afraid to ask, because I knew it was my fault that things had fallen apart for everyone. I couldn't bear the thought that I was the cause for my sister's heartache. I had caused two of the most important women in my life so much pain. 

 

_How can I ever get them to forgive me?_

 

Before opening my eyes, I inwardly resolved myself to do whatever it took to get back into Ginny's good graces again. I had already told myself that I would do anything necessary to prove to my family that I never meant to hurt them. I knew that it would take some time, but they would all forgive me in time. I was worried for my relationship with Ginny though. I had taken so much from her; I didn't see how she could ever want to be close to me again. The thought made me ill to my stomach. 

 

I slowly turned my head around to the right, finally daring to let Ginny know I was awake. The look on her face was immediately devastating to me. She seemed so much older, wiser somehow, but broken. _Oh, Merlin, we're both so broken,_ I thought, horrified that my sister's pain made me feel less alone. 

 

_Rub, pause, rub. Sniffle._

 

She gave me a wry smile, her eyes shiny with tears, then said, "I wondered when you would turn around."

 

I was startled by her intuition, thought I didn't know why; Ginny could always read me like a book, even when we were little kids. Of course, she could do that with a lot of people, but she seemed to get it right most of the time with me. That she knew I was awake, but patiently waited for me to be ready, filled me with something I had longed for: connectedness, family, acceptance- _belonging_. 

 

"I was just thinking," I responded to her, knowing that would be enough. 

 

"Me, too."

 

_Rub, pause, rub. Sniffle._

 

"You weren't thinking, Gin, you were feeling," I said gently, trying to figure out how I could apologise to my oldest friend for ruining her life.

 

"Yeah, well, so were you."

 

"So I was," I agreed, before we both lapsed back into silence, looking questioningly at one another. 

 

_How the hell am I supposed to start this?_

 

"Ginny, I-" I began, but stopped short.

 

_I can't fucking do this!_

 

I sat up, pulling my head off the tabletop. My neck ached in protest and I couldn't help but think I might do permanent damage if I kept sleeping in these odd positions. 

 

Ginny's hand had fallen away from me and was resting halfway between us on the table. _A peace offering._ She was staring down at her hand and I reached across to cover it with my own. I squeezed it, warmed when she returned the gesture and met my gaze again.

 

I decided that simple and straightforward was my best bet. _No excuse will ever be good enough anyway._

 

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I hope someday you can forgive me," I said as she gripped my hand tightly. Encouraged, I continued, "I know there is really nothing I can say that will make it okay. What I did was fucking selfish and I'm the worst brother in the world to have put you through that. I-"

 

"Don't, Ron. Just don't," she said angrily, still grasping my hand tightly, and I felt myself deflate. 

 

"Ginny, please, just let me-"

 

"I said don't, Ron. Don't _ever_ say you are the worst brother and don't take all of the blame. Just stop it!" she burst out. 

 

_What is it with everyone not letting me take the blame? It was my fault! Does nobody else understand that? What the hell has gotten into everybody?_

 

"You were hurting and I knew it. You were hurting and confused and you needed my help and I couldn't- I didn't give it to you. I'm the worst sister you could have ever gotten." I looked up sharply at her untrue words. "Don't you see, it's all my fault!"

 

Her remaining composure broke and she finally allowed herself to give in to the tears which had been threatening since I'd returned. 

 

I closed the gap between us in an instant, pulling her small form roughly to my chest. I felt tears again rising in my eyes, though I resolutely fought against them. _What the hell is wrong with me today?_ Our positions had switched, me now rubbing her head and back, and fighting our shared misery with soft sniffles. 

 

Sob. Rub, pause, rub. Sniffle. 

 

_She thinks it was her fault._

 

Sob. Rub, pause, rub. Sniffle. 

 

_Hermione thinks that, too._

 

Sob. Rub, pause, rub. Sniffle. 

 

_I'm willing to bet Galleons that Harry thinks that as well._

 

Sniffle. Rub, pause, rub. Sniffle. 

 

_This is so fucked up! Could it possibly be true? It feels like my fault- I think it's my fault. How can we all think that though? Maybe it's that bloody saviour complex that Hermione was always yammering on about- we all think it's our fault when we can't save the whole fucking world._

 

Sniffle. Rub, pause, rub. Sniffle. 

 

_Damnit, how many other people are blaming themselves for something reckless I did?_

 

"All of us," Ginny's whisper interrupted my thoughts. 

 

My hand stilled immediately and I pulled back harshly. "Gin? How-"

 

"I can finally do it. I'm fully certified in Legilimency now. If I had been able to do it a few years ago, this all could have been avoided."

 

"Then you can read in my mind that I think that's absolute bollocks. Nobody could have prevented me from going. It was my path and I needed to take it." 

 

I stared hard at her and willed her to be able to see inside me. I pushed all of my reasons for leaving to the front of my mind. I let her see all of my doubts, my insecurities, all of my confusion that had clouded my judgment. I gave her everything I thought might be able to prove it wasn't her fault, to prove I thought there was a reason things happen. _Even when it's so fucking hard to find what the reason is, there has to be one._

 

"But what is it?" she asked softly, bringing her head to rest back on my shoulder. 

 

"I don't know yet," I admitted. "You got to see all of mine- which is fucking brilliant, by the way. Do I get to hear why you think it's your fault?"

 

"I would have thought that was obvious."

 

"Maybe to a mind reader it is; it's not to me."

 

I resumed the slide of my hand through her hair and down her back.

 

Rub, pause, rub. Deep breath.

 

"I should have known you were drowning, Ron. I could read something from you, but not enough and I doubted myself. I didn't even try to ask you. And then you left and it was too late- you knew I had failed you some-"

 

"You never failed me, Gin. You-"

 

"Let me say this or I might never do it."

 

_Go ahead._ Rub, pause, rub. Silence.

 

"I must have failed you, because you asked Harry to take care of Hermione. Harry- not me, not Harry and me- just Harry. I was Hermione's best friend and would've done anything for her, but you obviously didn't trust me."

 

_I did trust you. I didn't want to burden you._

 

"I didn't know that. I assumed you'd thought I would screw it up or that I wasn't good enough to watch after her for you."

 

_You've always been more than good enough._

 

"Ron."

 

_I mean it._

 

"Stop that."

 

"Sorry."

 

"I guess I didn't believe that you would have faith in me. Then you wouldn't return my letters and I thought that was the proof I had failed to be there for you."

 

I tilted my head to rest it on top of hers. We sat in silence, our breaths matching, mine a bit shallow and hers a bit deep, but matched up nonetheless. 

"We've all completely fucked it up, haven't we?" I said after several quiet moments. 

 

I actually believed her. It amazed me that she essentially said the same thing Hermione had: she had seen the signs, but couldn't do anything about them. Somehow, it was much easier to believe her. Maybe it was because she was blood and my only sister. Maybe it was because she was my oldest friend and we had known each other our entire lives. Maybe it was because we had both lost the love of our lives to each other's love of their life. Maybe it was just easier for me to be angry with Hermione.

 

"I knew you would get there eventually."

 

"Hmmm?"

 

"It's just easier to be angry with Hermione."

 

"You have to stop doing that, Gin. I'm gonna need to get used to it."

 

"Sorry. I just thought it would help you to know I understood you, without you actually having to say the words."

 

"Well, you're-" _bloody brilliant, actually!_

 

She smiled and it almost blinded me, because it was the first huge, full, genuine smile I had seen from her in years, quite literally. 

 

"Merlin, you know me so well!"

 

"So it seems."

 

_How long have you been able to do this?_

 

"Pretty well for a couple years now, but it's only been the last year that I've really been able to do it without other people knowing I'm inside their minds."

 

_Wicked._

 

"Yeah."

 

_Ginny, I have to ask. Do you know about Harry?_

 

"Yes."

 

_How much?_

 

"Enough."

 

_Is this how you found out?_

 

"More or less."

 

I braced myself for what could be the downfall for both of us, if it were to be spoken aloud. 

 

_Are they in love?_

 

She didn't answer me for long moments and I thought my heart had stopped. 

 

_Gin. Please._

 

"I don't know," she said after another long pause. "I'm not sure." 

 

_I'm so sorry._

 

"I know."

 

_I wish I could take it back._

 

"Me, too," she said sadly and my heart broke a little bit more for her- well, for both of us really. 

 

I took a deep breath before I got the courage to ask what I was too afraid to say. 

 

_Can you ever forgive me?_

 

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?"

 

_No. You should be getting angry with me and screaming and hitting and telling me that I ruined everything._

 

"Of course I'm angry, Ron. We're all angry. Anger doesn't stop forgiveness."

 

_So can you?_

 

"I already have."

 

My heart gave a painful twinge and I squeezed Ginny hard. Her words literally took my breath away. She offered me her forgiveness as though it was the most natural and simple thing she could possibly do. She gave me something I didn't honestly believe I could've given to her if our situations had been reversed. 

 

"Gin, I-" I had no idea how to end that sentiment. I had no clue what I wanted to say, even though there could never be enough time or words to say everything inside me. 

 

"I know. Me, too."

 

"Oh, good, you're both finally up." Mum bustled into the kitchen and the moment was over. I felt infinitely more satisfied by our conversation than by any that had preceded it. 

 

"Don't just sit there. Come help me get these dishes on the table," Mum said lightly, flicking her wand at the various foods she had prepared. The food flew onto some plates, practically overflowing each of the dishes, and the scents wafted throughout the kitchen.

 

Ginny and I shared one more hug before getting up and joining Mum. As one, we moved to either side of her and held our mother close. I somehow knew that any comfort Ginny had received for her broken heart had come from the woman who had tried to soothe my own ache. I knew Mum had taken care of Ginny for me when I couldn't be here with her. 

 

"It will get easier, my loves," Mum said, kissing each of us in turn. "Now, let's tuck in."

 

Breakfast passed in a blur for me. In my mind, I could only hear two phrases over and over again.

 

_Are they in love?_

 

_I don't know._

 

_Are they in love?_

 

_I don't know._

 

My mouth chewed slowly, savouring the tastes of hot, fried bacon, cool tomatoes, soft biscuits and fresh made bread, and so many other delicious things, but even my Mum's amazing cooking couldn't tear my thoughts away from those two lines of our conversation. My tongue recognised flavours I had been craving and wishing for, every bit as delicious as I had remembered, but even the food couldn't pull me away from my obsessive thoughts. 

 

_Are they in love?_

 

_I don't know._

 

Mum and Ginny were as quiet as I was, or perhaps they weren't. I honestly didn't remember if they had said a word throughout breakfast. I was vaguely aware of Ginny saying she was off to help at the twins' shop and, with a soft hand to my shoulder, she was gone. When I finally came out of the fog of my thoughts, Mum was gone and I had no recollection of her leaving. 

 

Shaking myself from my stupor, I decided to get up and try to find her. I knew Harry and Hermione hadn't told Mum about their relationship, but she clearly knew about it. _What exactly does she know?_ I wondered, curious about what she had been able to find out about their relationship. 

 

Looking out the kitchen window, I could see Mum kneeling in her garden, tending to the flowers that grew there. I smiled to myself, glad to see that some things never change, as constant as the changing seasons. It was a Saturday morning, early in the spring, my Mum could be found nowhere but her garden. 

 

I flicked my wand at two glasses on the kitchen counter and they immediately filled with ice and an amber-coloured liquid. It was a spell I had learned for the most delicious iced tea with pieces of mint floating in it and I had wanted to have Mum try it, knowing she would love its sweetness. Gathering the cool glasses into my hand, I walked out to the garden. 

 

"Mum," I said quietly as I settled down into the grass beside her and held out a glass to her.

 

"Yes, son," she responded, looking up briefly and giving me a soft, genuine smile, before reaching for the tall glass. "Mmm, this is delicious! Is that mint?"

 

"Yeah, you like it?" I asked, sincerely pleased she was enjoying it.

 

"Absolutely! You'll have to teach me the spell for it- I think Dad will love it," she said, returning to look at her garden. 

 

"You're still trying to get an orange tree to grow out here then? Why don't you just use magic to speed it along?" 

 

My Mum insisted that magic was okay for helping her to dig and plant, to till and water, to weed and prune, but it was never acceptable to use magic to force nature along. I never understood why, though she must have explained it to me at least thousand times before.

 

"Some things you just can't force, love."

 

_If that isn't the truth, I don't know what is._

 

"And growing an orange tree is one of them?"

 

"Oh, yes. Anything that's worth waiting for can't be rushed."

 

"Perhaps it's just not meant to be," I said, no longer talking about the orange tree.

 

"Of course it is! Do you know what happens when magic is used to hurry a fruit tree along? Sure, the fruits come faster and are a bit larger, but you know what? They are never as sweet, never as tart, never as juicy, and are frankly boring. They are good enough, but they're not the best." 

 

"Really, Mum?"

 

"I've told you before- you've just never quite heard it before now. But, yes, that's why I'll never hurry along anything in this garden. It's never as good as anything that one has to wait for."

 

_That may be true, but what if you just wait forever?_

 

"Isn't sometimes having something better than nothing at all? I mean, you've been trying to get an orange tree to grow out here for the last ten years. How could it possibly be worth waiting and trying for so long?" 

 

"You just have to hold onto a little faith, son. Besides, I can be a very patient woman. Maybe you should try planting it for me. I have the feeling you'll have just the touch it needs."

 

"I'm afraid I don't have a green thumb like yours, Mum," I said quietly, allowing myself to be vulnerable with her. _I ruin everything I touch._

 

"You do. It's inside of you. You just have to be willing to work and use your heart. Gardens need love, just like everything else. You can't possibly make a beautiful garden without putting some of yourself into it."

 

Dropping all pretences of talking about the garden or an orange tree, I said a bit more loudly, "I've put all of my heart into her. I'm afraid there's nothing left to give."

 

"Oh, Ron. You can't possibly think you have no heart left to offer, do you? My dear sweet boy, you have so much more to give- so much more. I know it hurts right now, but I also know that things'll work out how they're meant to."

 

"I know you taught us to believe that- and I do believe it, in some way. But, I have to wonder about what could possibly be the reason for being so heart-broken and for Ginny to be so sad. I'm so stupid! I don't know what I was thinking, running off half-cocked, and refusing to listen to any of you. What the hell was I doing?" 

 

I felt my blood pumping through my veins and heard my heart beating loudly within my chest. My breathing sped up as I got angrier with myself. _I am such a fuckwit! Why the fuck do I always have to mess everything up?_ Mum placed a calming hand on my arm and I felt the building pressure subside a bit. 

 

"How are you not angry with me? I should've known that I could've asked you what to do. I should've come to you or to Dad when I was feeling so miserable and so bloody unlike myself. I should've asked you what to do or I should've returned your letters and floo calls. I should've come home sooner, right after I blew off a little steam. I should've tried harder, I should've-"

 

"Should've, could've, would've- what's the difference? It's already done. It's finished. We can't change it, no matter how angry at yourself you get, no matter if you try to force me into getting angry with you. We can't change it, whether we cry or scream or sit and pretend it never happened. The only thing we _can_ do is accept that something brought you back to us and that you can try to do something different from now on. Now, if you're quite finished beating yourself up, I'd really like it if you'd please plant the orange tree sapling for me." She finished in a huff, her tone firm, allowing no disagreement.

 

_Will nobody just let me hate myself and be angry at how badly I've fucked things up? This is getting to be a bit much. I know they all love me and want me to feel like they're not angry, so I don't run off again, but this is making me go barmy. How can they honestly believe I'm not a horrible person for deserting them?_

 

I knelt on my knees and pulled out my wand, ready to dig and yank out the weeds with magic. _What the hell,_ I thought, before I slid my wand back into my pocket.

 

Leaning forward, my fingers sank into the cool earth, breaking the surface of the grass. As I dug my hands into the dirt and pulled up piece after piece of earth, I realised there were several years' worth of roots still sitting further down. 

 

_These can't be helping anything._

 

I decided to pull up all of the old roots, glancing at my Mum for permission. She smiled and nodded her agreement with me. 

 

"Sometimes you have to clear the old away before you can start again," she said as I yanked furiously at the roots. "I always thought having the old would help the new to grow- like they would somehow remember what had gone wrong before and could try to do something different."

 

I grunted at her, letting her know I was listening. Sweat was beginning to pour down my face and I swiped my forehead against my jumper. 

 

_Fuck, it's hot out here!_

 

"Mum-" I began, but before I could even ask, she flicked her wand at me and my jumper disappeared, leaving my thin undershirt in its place. The shirt was already sticky, but I didn't care; it was a welcome relief. 

 

"Thanks," I said and returned to vigorously tearing the roots from their resting place. They were tangled and snarled, and while they were still alive, they were harming, more than helping, anything new to grow. 

 

"Maybe having a fresh start will make the difference- maybe it will make the earth rich enough to sustain something so- so- precious." Mum sounded as though she was thinking aloud, rather than talking directly to me.

 

"Mmm." I began to form the hole I had made into a smooth space, wanting the new sapling to be on firm ground from the beginning. _Maybe this time it'll work._

 

I held up the sapling in my hands and turned it around a couple times so I could see all of it. One of the sides was a bit shorter, in a little more need of help. _I'll put that side where it'll get the most sun_ , I decided. I carefully began to untangle some of the roots at the bottom, wanting them to have the best chance possible to grow. 

 

"Grow long and strong," I muttered to the roots, not caring if Mum thought I was insane for talking to tree roots. She talked to her garden often, so I wasn't very worried that I was following in her footsteps, so to speak. "Reach far and dig in- drink deeply, yeah?" I said, and firmly, but gently, placed the small tree into its new home. 

 

I reached for a handful of dirt to cover the top, but hesitated. Instead, I pulled out the four longest and strongest roots from the previous failed trees. I placed one root on each side of the base and tucked them in a bit. 

 

"I cleared all of the harmful stuff away- seems a shame for this tree to be all alone though.   
I kept the strongest ones to help it find its way."

 

"Those were the ones that were meant to survive, son," Mum said and leaned forward. Together, we slowly covered the roots with dirt and filled the hole. With each handful, I felt more renewed and healed somehow, though nothing had changed. 

 

_Actually, that's no true- I've changed! I've realised something: everything isn't as bleak as it seems. There must be a way to fix this._

 

"Mum," I said hesitantly, "why did you invite Harry and Hermione to dinner tomorrow night if you already knew about them?" I pulled out my wand, flicked it at the base of the new tree, and guided water onto the dirt.

 

_Does she want me to get used to seeing them together? I don't know that I'll ever be used to it._

 

"You can't hide forever, Ronnie. Running away from them will only take you farther from happiness," she said, looking directly at me. 

 

"How can you be so sure?" _I know it, but it hurts so badly._

 

"Because you have the same look about you that Ginny's had for almost two years- especially the last year. The problem is with the four of you, and you can bet the answer is with the four of you, too."

 

"I dunno, Mum, I mean- Hey, what about Oliver? Isn't she happy with him?"

 

"Ginny hasn't been with Oliver for over half a year, Ron."

 

"What? Why?" _Do Harry and Hermione know that?_

 

"She doesn't love him," Mum said simply, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world, and I guess it was. 

 

"Then why did she go with him at all?" I asked, genuinely confused.

 

"Oh, Ron, you have so much yet to learn about love, don't you?"

 

_Of course I do!_

 

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

 

"Just like you took your time coming to love, Ginny's doing the same thing. Did you never try to forget about Hermione or try to move on with someone else, even though you still loved her? Did you never force yourself to be happy- want to prove it could be different, when deep down you knew how your life was supposed to be?"

 

"Mum, I spent most of my fourth and fifth years, half of my sixth year at Hogwarts, and the better part of the last two years doing just that." _Like a fucking wanker._

 

"Knowing how alike you and Ginny can be, I'd say she took a leaf out of your book and decided to do the same thing- she tried to convince herself she could be happy with a different life." Mum's voice trailed off and I glimpsed a tear in her right eye. 

 

_She must be so disappointed in us,_ I thought as I looked down and closed my eyes against the feeling of guilt that was rising steadily within my chest. 

 

"Don't, Ron. It's not worth the pain of hating yourself so much," she said softly to me and my eyes jerked up to hers.

 

_Can she-_

 

"No, I'm not like Ginny. I don't need that to know what you're thinking. I just know you well enough to know you're doubting yourself and still blaming yourself for everything."

 

"I can't help it, Mum."

 

"Yes, you can. You just have to see yourself through our eyes. It'll come to you in time." 

 

Mum stood up and grabbed her iced tea, ready to walk into the house. She paused next to me and placed her hand lightly on my shoulder. I leaned my head onto her hand and she turned it to cup my cheek. 

 

"Have faith, my love. You must never lose that, or everything will be lost."

 

I sat in the garden, the hot sun beating down on me, trying to take in everything my Mum had said to me. After a few minutes, my arse began to go numb, so I moved to the hammock, still content to sit outside and think. 

 

_She tried to convince herself she could be happy with a different life._

 

_So did I._

 

_The problem is with the four of you, and you can bet the answer is with the four of you, too._

 

_If there even is an answer._

 

_Are they in love?_

 

_I don't know._

 

_It all hangs on that,_ I realised with a sudden clarity. _If they're in love, there's nothing to really be done._

 

_Are they in love?_

 

_I don't know._

 

_Ginny's not sure. Maybe there's some hope!_

 

I shook my head roughly, trying to force myself to not brood on thoughts that would lead to nowhere. _I need to talk to Ginny again._ I stopped the swinging of the hammock, put my feet onto the ground, and rested my head in my hands. 

 

I got up and began to walk towards the house when I remembered that Ginny had gone to the twins' shop for the afternoon to help out. I trudged inside and up the stairs to take a shower, suddenly feeling very dirty. 

 

I turned on the shower spray, lukewarm, and flicked my wand at the nozzle. It sprouted a dial, which I turned two clicks to the left, several coloured buttons in the centre, and a spout on the underside. The flowing water changed from a steady stream to short, sharp bursts. Satisfied with my transfiguration of the showerhead, I shrugged out of my sweat-soaked shirt and muddy jeans. 

 

_Oh, that's bloody fantastic!_

 

The cool water pounded onto my back, a bit like small fingers digging into the muscles. It stung slightly, a good tingle flowing into the stretched muscles. Turning around, I pushed the green button and caught the scented gel that poured out of the spigot. Scrubbing roughly at my arms, I breathed in the scent of vanilla, glad I had opted for a neutral scent for all of the soaps. 

 

_Warm arms wrapped around my middle, breasts crushed into my back. I felt her hardened nipples against my skin, her cheek pressed into my shoulder. I braced my hands on the wall, leaning forward, hanging my head between my arms._

 

_I felt her soft, open-mouthed kisses being traced along my shoulders and down my back. Sliding under my arm, Hermione manoeuvred around to face me, her arms never releasing my waist._

 

_"Ron?"_

 

_She kissed my neck, lightly sucked on my neck, and traced my ear with her tongue. Despite the shivers running through my body, I couldn't open my eyes- couldn't bear it if this was all a cruel trick of my mind._

 

_"Ron? Open your eyes," she demanded, sounding so small and alone. She nicked my earlobe, her head tucked into the crease of my neck, but I still couldn't bring myself to look at her. What if she wasn't really here? I had imagined her more often than not while having a quick wank in the shower, easily able to believe it was her hand instead of my own bringing me off._

 

_"Ron, please. Won't you touch me, or look at me, or do something? I need you."_

 

_I pulled one arm off the wall and crushed her against me, blindly, feeling my way along the curves I knew so well. My hand pushed into the small of her back, pressing her belly more fully into mine. I crooked my nose into her hair, savouring the quiet closeness that would surely disappear if I opened my eyes._

 

_The cool water sprayed onto the back of my head, while warm tears seeped from Hermione's eyes. I brought my other arm to settle against her, wrapping it around her and resting it on her hip. Of their own volition, my lips found her eyes, licking and kissing away the tears that escaped._

 

_One of her small hands drew down my back and nestled on top of my bum, tracing light circles on my flesh. I felt myself respond to her body, her gentle caresses, but somehow it didn't matter- I just wanted to be close to her. My fingers squeezed her hip, holding her to me, refusing to give even another inch of space between us._

 

_"I don't understand, Ron. Why won't you look at me?"_

 

_"I can't lose you again, Hermione. I just can't."_

 

_"Then open your eyes. I'm right here with you."_

 

_I ignored her words, but shifted my face against hers until our noses bumped and our lips hovered less than an inch from each other._

 

_"I love you," she whispered into the slight space, warming me with her words and her breath, a sharp contrast to the cool water still beating against my back._

 

_"Never let anything come between us again," I mumbled as I crashed my lips into hers, a kiss of reverence and desperation and hope. Our lips clung to one another, lingering together with the salty tang of her tears._

 

_I released her lips and moved to place kisses all over her face, recognising the contours of her face without opening my eyes, seeing the dimples and freckles and smooth skin clearly in my mind. I felt her reciprocating, her mouth leaving a trail of heat across my neck and down my chest._

 

_"We're both alive; we're both here. Don't shut me out," she said breathily and her words were enough to awaken my senses fully and force my eyes open._

 

_Stilling my movements, I grabbed her arms and stared at her hard before saying, "I can't lose you." I willed her to see how deeply I was affected by our last encounter with the Death Eaters, how terrified I was that she would die and I wouldn't be able to survive without her._

 

_"You won't- I won't let you," she said, before giving me a bruising kiss that left my chest heaving, trying to catch my breath._

 

I shook my head to stop the memory from flooding my consciousness. I sometimes got caught up in memories, memories so strong that I could swear I was living in them instead of re-playing them in my mind. 

 

I felt the water pounding away at my back, bringing me back into the present, but not clearing the images that had arisen in my mind. I swore I could actually feel her lips still on mine and her hands touching my skin so lovingly that I never wanted to move away from her body. I reached my hand up to touch my neck, certain it would feel sore from when she nicked me what seemed like mere moments before, and was actually surprised when I felt nothing. 

 

_I can't live like this, I'm going mad!_

 

"Damnit, Hermione! I can't even take a bloody shower without you fucking invading my mind! Fuck! Damnit!" I bellowed, and propped my forehead against the cool tiles of the shower. 

 

I felt my eyes burning with tears that wanted to escape, trying to force them away. _What kind of tosser am I that I can't stop fucking crying?_ Suddenly, I realised it didn't matter a damn if I cried; nobody was going to see it anyway. I had to fight a strong desire to slid down the wall, pull my knees into my chest, and rock back and forth, not caring about the tears escaping my eyes. 

 

"You lied, Hermione. Damn you, you lied," I said into the shower wall, my voice cracking, feeling the hurt and disappointment that had settled into my stomach rise within my chest. 

 

I quickly washed my hair and the rest of my body, afraid that if I lingered in the shower, I would become flooded again with the memories, specifically the ending of _that_ memory. I closed my eyes and clenched my jaw, refusing to actively participate in my mind and body betraying me to their love of the past. 

 

I tried to forget her kneeling before me, taking me within her wet warmth, my hands tangled in her curly hair, allowing me to fall apart in her arms. I attempted to block out the image of me holding her, pressed against the wall, her thigh over my shoulder, shuddering and moaning. I wanted to ignore the flush of my skin as I recalled lifting her higher on the wall, her arms and legs wrapped tightly around me, pushing roughly into her. I pretended I couldn't hear our voices echoing off the walls, mine proclaiming my love for her, hers calling my name in a low, sultry tone. 

 

_We were so happy. Can we ever get back there?_

 

My traitorous hand had been aiding my body, stroking myself in time with the movements in my memory. I felt my body tensing and responding to the stimulation- both my own, and from the Hermione of my memories and dreams. 

 

_Why fight it?_

 

I gave into what I so badly wanted, and welcomed the phantom sensations of Hermione's delicate fingers, entwined with my larger ones, to ghost over my cock. As our fingers quickened their pace, pulling and sliding, I felt my balls tightening within my body. My release washed over me, but instead of feeling satisfied and relieved, I was again feeling empty and alone.

 

_Damnit, Hermione. How could you let me fall so far?_

 

I reached up and turned the shower dial two more clicks to the left, increasing the pressure and temperature of the water. I let the water hit me, full in the face, trying to stop the torturous memories from plaguing me, reminding me of everything I had lost. The short bursts of water burned, but I welcomed the pain, focusing on the physical sensation of my skin stinging rather than my heart gaping open. 

 

"Ron?" I heard a female voice calling to me, startling me. 

 

"Yeah?" I yelled back, unable to distinguish the voice through the sound of the water. 

 

"I'm coming in," the voice said, as I heard the door opening. "Are you okay? Mum says you've been in here for over an hour."

 

_Ginny. At least she still cares._

 

"Trying to decide whether to drown myself or not, Gin," I said, laughing slightly. Oddly, the thought didn't sound as disturbing to me as it probably should have. 

 

"Want some company?" 

 

"What? Ginny-"

 

She snorted loudly, before retorting, "Keep your knickers on, Ron. I meant company for drowning, not the shower, you pervy wanker."

 

I turned off the water and ran my hands through my hair to drain some of the excess water. "Gin, pass me a towel, would you? I didn't think you'd be back so soon," I said, as I dried myself off. 

 

"I've been gone for hours- where the hell have you been?"

 

_Lost in a dream- lost in a never-ending nightmare._

 

"Guess I just lost track of time." 

 

I wrapped the towel firmly around my waist and stepped out of the shower. Ginny was sitting on the closed toilet lid, arms wrapped around her knees, looking much like the sister I remembered from before all of this mess. _Spending time with the twins must be good for her._

 

"I do that too," Ginny said softly, handing me a clean shirt.

 

"How did you-"

 

"Mum said you came straight from the garden. She didn't want you walking around in a towel, so she sent me up with these."

 

She dutifully turned around as I pulled on the fresh clothes. Somehow, my jeans felt softer as I pulled them over my hips, my shirt felt newer as it settled over my chest. I crossed the bathroom in two steps, grasped her wrist, and pulled her to her feet. 

 

Noting her surprise, I clutched her to my chest, suddenly needing to hold her and to be held. I felt like a selfish prick, seeing only my hurt and agony, when she had lived through the same for the last year.

 

_I won't fuck this up like I've fucked everything else up._

 

"Ginny, do you ever honestly believe it will go back to how it was?"

 

"Sometimes. Not usually. When I heard you were home, I thought there might be a chance though."

 

"And now?"

 

"I suppose there's always hope, Ron. We'll have to wait until tomorrow to see what happens." 

 

"You've never been able to tell, with all of the Sunday dinners they've come to?"

 

"Love is a confusing thing. Sure, they love each other, but are they in love? I don't know how I would begin to know." 

 

"They love each other."

 

"Of course they love each other! Two people who love each other so deeply usually are in love, but they've been best friends for a decade. It's so enmeshed with them, I can't tell. Reading their minds doesn't guarantee I know their hearts. Besides, I don't read them anymore- it's not fair if they don't know I'm doing it. I only do it without permission if it's for work. Or this morning, when I showed you. I feel wrong if I do it any other times. Guess I learned that the hard way."

 

I took a deep breath and released Ginny, allowing her some space away from me. We walked out of the bathroom and down the stairs together, not saying where we were going, but instinctually leading and following one another. We walked out the back door, through the garden, and down to the dock overlooking our small pond.

 

As we sat down, I resigned myself to the realisation that thoughts of our situation would plague me until there was some resolution. Pushing the thoughts into the corners of my mind, I allowed them to linger in the dark, but forced myself to focus on my family, on the present. 

 

_Are they in love?_

 

_I don't know._

 

_We'll know soon enough._

 

 

*****

 

If you would be so kind as to leave a review, I would love to hear your thoughts! Thank you very much!!! ~Risie


	8. Chapter 8 - The Question Game

  
Author's notes:

Thank you to my beta, Mench, for her careful eyes, her encouragement, and support on this fic. Also, thank you to everyone who continues to read and review. I was so honoured to receive the Editor’s Choice award for this fic- I’m still flabbergasted, to be perfectly honest. A million thanks to the TQP mods and all of you for reading. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Risie :o)

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A/N: If you can’t see the Author’s Notes for this chapter (due to the skin you’re using on the site), please check the Table of Contents for them before reading. Thanks! Risie :o)

 

*****  


 

If a Man Answers, Chapter 8 (The Question Game)

  


_Can't believe she's here with me,_ I thought hazily as I tightened my grip on her hip. With my eyes closed, my senses were heightened: the blanket felt softer, her bum felt so much more snug nestled against me, her soft sigh seemed to vibrate through my arm.

  


_When did this happen?_ I asked myself, for a moment forgetting how Hermione came to be in my bed. _I don't care,_ I realised. It didn't matter how she got here, or how she ultimately found me; we could finally move on from the past two nightmare years we had spent without each other. I held her a little more tightly in my arms, leaned forward, and nuzzled her neck, placing open-mouthed kisses on the nape. I took a deep breath, surprised to find her scent had changed.

  


I opened the palm of my hand and traced it from her hip around to settle against her stomach. I thought I felt the muscle flutter lightly under my fingertips and chanced the opportunity to drag my hand up her torso.

  


''Ron," she said and I froze. The voice was not Hermione's. "I obviously know you're awake, no sense in trying to fake it," she said and turned in my now-loosened arm. _Ginny._ Thankfully, I recognised the voice, but then I had the awful thought that I had been feeling up my sister.

  


Opening my eyes, I said "Blood hell, Gin- sorry 'bout that," and quickly pulled away from her more. _I can’t believe I just did that!_

  


“Don’t be. We both know who you were hoping I’d be,” she said simply, matter-of-factly, as though it was perfectly understandable that my hand had been touching her in almost-but-not-quite-fully inappropriate ways.

  


“Well, that may be true, but- wait, how did-” I started to ask her how she found me, but I realised that I was in my old room at the Burrow and my memories of the past day and a half flooded back into my consciousness. I remembered lying in bed with Ginny, not able to bear being alone for the night. Even the memory was painful and I wondered if there would ever come a day when I didn’t physically hurt from thinking about how much everything had changed yesterday.

  


“Actually, Gin, I’m not sure that’s true,” I said, not exactly sure how to articulate what I was feeling. “I mean, yeah, I wish you’d been her, but… but not right now- not like this.”

  


“I think I know what you mean. I miss Harry, so badly I can hardly stand sometimes, but I don’t know that I’d be able to take him back, to get back to where we were. Is it like that?”

  


“Yeah, I guess. I- I think so. Fuck, I don’t really know. I think we all know how it’s _supposed_ to work out, but I’m not sure if it _should_ or if we can ever get back there. But I don’t think we should even try to get back there. _Back there_ didn’t work. It has to be that, but something new, if it’s going to be anything at all. Merlin, I’m not making any sense, am I?”

  


_Fuck, I need a second to think!_

  


“You are. It’s the situation that doesn’t make sense. I think it’s like reading the last pages of a book and knowing how it’s going to end up, knowing that’s how it’s meant to end up. But, when you read it from the beginning, you have no idea how it’s gonna make it to that place. We’ve all read the ending, Ron; we just have to decide if we’re going to re-write it or if we’re going to let everything take a natural course to that place.”

  


“You’re daft, you know that?” I said with a laugh. _She’s the only person I know other than Hermione who would make a book metaphor!_

  


“I’m just trying to help, can’t you tell?” she said testily, but I knew it was an act.

  


“When did you get so grown-up and mature?”

  


“I did what I had to do- we all did, didn’t we?”

  


“Are you going to answer all of my questions with another question?” I said, smiling cheekily at her.

  


“Are you going to evade all of my questions with more questions?” she responded, falling into an old game we used to play to see who would forget and break form first.

  


_Haven’t played this game with her in years._

  


“Is that what you’re hoping for?”

  


“What could you possibly gain from playing this silly little game with me?”

  


“How could you accuse me of that?” I said, dramatically putting a hand over my eyes and feigning offence.

  


“Do you really think I’m going to fall for that?”

  


“Do you think you could lose already so we can have a conversation?”

  


“Big brother, do you think you can distract me so easily?”

  


“Do you want to concede defeat or should I just go ahead and ask you what’s on my mind?”

  


“Haven’t you been asking me what’s on your mind?” she asked, sounding genuinely curious.

  


_Not really. Here goes nothing._

  


“When did you break up with Oliver?”

  


She paused for a moment and cocked her head to the side, probably trying to determine whether or not to continue our game, and then got a devious grin on her face.

  


“Do you really want to play at that?”

  


“Isn’t it a fair question for me to ask?”

  


“Do you think so?”

  


“Would I have asked if I didn’t think so?”

  


“Do you really want me to answer that?”

  


_She’s trying to get me off track. I need to get back to the point._

  


“Do you want to stop avoiding my question?”

  


“When was Christmas?”

  


“Was it then?”

  


“Could it have been a couple months before that?”

  


“Why did you leave him?”

  


“Would you have stayed with someone you didn’t love?”

  


“Then why were you with him in the first place?”

  


“Didn’t you ever want a shag from someone who wasn’t complicated?”

  


_Not something I ever needed to hear from her!_

  


“Did you think I needed that mental image?” I said, evading her question.

  


“Well, did you answer my question?”

  


“What question was that?”

  


“Didn’t you ever want to fuck someone who was fun and attractive without all of the emotional complications?

  


“Don’t you think I learned my lesson about that in sixth year with Lavender?”

  


_The one and only person I’ve ever shagged without being in love with her._

  


She squinted her eyes at me slightly, as though she was trying to figure out which path to take in questioning me further. “Does that mean you didn’t shag anyone in the last two years?”

  


“Does a knob job count in your definition of shagging?”

  


“Has it ever counted in my definition of shagging?”

  


_Merlin, she’s trying to kill me!_

  


“Do I even wanna know your official definition?”

  


“Do you wanna get back to my original question?”

  


“Which was what again?”

  


“Didn’t you ever want a relationship that was easy and the most complicated part was wondering where to shag that night?”

  


_No, sometimes I just wanted to forget everything._

  


“Didn’t I tell you I learned my lesson about that?”

  


“Do you have any idea how lonely I’ve been for the last two years?”

  


“Oh, Gin…” I swallowed roughly, guilt rising within me again. _She’s been lonely because I abandoned her. Well, me and that tosser._

  


“Oi! I knew you would break first!” she said, rather triumphantly, but I couldn’t find it within myself to be irritated. It was just a stupid game anyway and she was finally talking about what happened while I was gone.

  


“I don’t care. Ginny, I-”

  


“Don’t start that shite again so early in the day. You’re sorry. I know. I get it. You’re sorry, I’m sorry, we’re all sorry. We’re all completely fucked up. There, now I’ve said it all for the entire day, so there won’t be any reason for you to bring it up again.” Her eyes flashed dangerously as she said this and I found myself at a loss for words. She stared at me with hard eyes, daring me to contradict her or refuse to obey her new rules of the day.

  


_This is getting out of hand._ How in the world was I supposed to take some responsibility and try to figure out how to resolve things when everyone was so busy taking all of the blame on themselves?

  


“I can’t do this. Not like this,” I said, pushing myself out of my bed and moving over to the dresser. Opening it, I was pleased to see some of my clothes still folded within a drawer. _I’ll have to unpack all of my stuff later._ I pulled a shirt over my head, unable to have this conversation with her while almost completely nude. _I’ve had enough naked conversations lately to fill a lifetime._

  


“What do you mean, Ron? You’re not thinking of leaving again!” She said it firmly, but there was a hint of question in her voice, and the slightest twinge of panic, begging me to not leave her again.

  


I whirled around immediately and said, “Of course not, you daft twit,” as I crossed back to the bed and hugged her tightly. “I wouldn’t do that to you,” I said softly into her hair, “or myself,” I added as an afterthought. Honestly, I knew I could never survive leaving them again- not in the way I had before. _If you could call the last two years surviving._

  


“But, Ginny, I can’t do _this_ anymore- can’t see you in pain, but you refuse to let me take the blame. I can’t do that. I left. Me. _I_ left. _I’m_ the one who needs to start doing what’s right, at least where my family is concerned.”

  


She had startled a couple times while I was talking, opening her mouth to object, but I squeezed her and she let me finish my thought. I was floored by her clear want to not have me take on any responsibility for the complete demise of both of our love lives.

  


“But you came home. That’s all you ever needed to do.”

  


“No, it’s not enough. Not after everything I put you all through,” I said fiercely, remembering my promise to myself to prove to them how sorry I was, how I would spend my life making it up to them.

  


“Yes, it is enough! Stop being such a fucking martyr. It’s getting on my nerves and I might have to smack you,” she said in a huff and I had to suppress the urge to pull out my hair.

  


“I’m not being a fucking martyr,” I retorted angrily, pulling back from her and sitting more firmly on the bed. “Don’t you see that it’s impossible for me to do that, because all of the rest of you are doing that? Can’t you see that?”

  


_I feel like I’m going insane here!_

  


She stared angrily at me for long moments, but I held her gaze. This was a point I could not concede if I wanted to start taking control of my life. I worried that she might continue to fight me, but she let out a large sigh and her shoulders drooped heavily. I recognised her stance, as it was one I had become intimately familiar with in the past several years. That was the look of a Weasley defeated and I hated that I was the one to cause that, yet another time.

  


“What’s that for?” I asked her quietly, rocking my body lightly into hers.

  


“Taking the blame,” she whispered and began fidgeting with her hands, “has been what I’ve been holding onto for two years. It’s what I’m comfortable with and it’s going to take a lot for me to give that up.”

  


I reached over and covered her hands with one of mine to stop her movements, and placed my other arm around her shoulders. “I know something about that as well.”

  


_Guilt has been my constant companion these past years._

  


“What you don’t know is that I really do need to take some of the blame. We all do. If you keep refusing us, we’ll only try harder. Relationships and communication need to be reciprocal, and something broke there. I need to make sure it doesn’t break this time.”

  


“Don’t you remember when Percy left?” I asked her. “That was a case of him knowing what he needed and being a git about getting it. It wasn’t our fault that he did that and we weren’t to blame for it. This is just like that.”

  


“You’re wrong, Ron. So wrong.” She paused for long moments before continuing. “We may have been mad at Percy for leaving and couldn’t see how our choices impacted his decisions, but the communication broke between us then too. That situation was partly our fault, because we didn’t catch him before he fell. Sure, it was mostly his fault, but we were a part of it- even if a very small part.”

  


We fell silent then, perhaps both trying to figure out how to convince the other of our position. _She couldn’t possibly be right, could she?_

  


“And, for the record,” she began in a firm tone, “I told you yesterday that you’re nothing like Percy, not in the ways you’re thinking. But, if you’re insistent on seeing how this situation is like the one with Percy, then you need to see the most important part. Remember when Percy finally returned to us? We welcomed him back, with open arms, didn’t we? We didn’t even need to yell or get angry, because he was already blaming himself enough. You didn’t begrudge him being welcomed home like that, did you?”

  


“Of course not. He said he was sorry. He was still a bit of a git, but he was sorry about it.”

  


“Point proven,” she said, and a smug smile crossed her features.

  


“Huh?”

  


“If it’s okay for us to not let Percy wallow in his guilt and blame and punish himself, don’t you think it’s okay for you, too?”

  


“I guess, I… I guess I reckoned what I did was worse,” I said quietly, now thinking about the parallels of the two situations.

  


“No, your mistake was the same as his. His was made out of pride and yours was made out of pain, but they were the same. You forgot that you could trust your family to catch you when you fall.”

  


_You could trust your family to catch you when you fall. Damn, it sounds so fucking easy when she says it that way. Why does it seem so hard?_

  


“So can we agree that we all had some hand in it and let it go at that? No need to feel so guilty alone when we can share the load,” she said, smiling slightly, hopefully. I was reminded of the fact that I said almost the exact same thing to Hermione, not even a full day prior.

  


_You could trust your family to catch you when you fall._

  


I nodded silently, hoping that would be enough. I felt emotion welling up in my throat and swallowed roughly, trying to force it down. _I’m not going to be such a tosser and cry every two seconds today._

  


“I’m sorry about Oliver,” I said suddenly, realising we hadn’t finished our conversation.

  


“Don’t be. I’m not. It served its purpose, but it wasn’t meant to be.”

  


“How do you do it, Gin? How do you say these things like it’s so simple and the most natural thing in the world?”

  


“What do you mean?”

  


“I say ‘I’m sorry’ and you say ‘don’t be’; I say ‘I wish I could take it back’ and you say ‘me too’. It’s like the fight’s gone out of you or something.”

  


“Nah, it’s still there.”

  


“But you’re hiding your feelings.”

  


“No. I’m not hiding, I’m just trying to keep as normal as possible throughout all of this. But you know what? I fall apart when nobody’s looking.”

  


“I won’t look away anymore, Gin.”

  


“I know you won’t.”

  


I blinked my eyes rapidly, refusing to let the swelling emotion overwhelm me. Her unwavering faith in me was staggering and I had no idea how she managed. How had she turned from that slightly bratty kid into this mature, contained woman in front of me?

  


_You could trust your family to catch you when you fall._

  


“You’ve decided what you want to do,” she said, saving me from my internal struggle, and I knew it wasn’t a question, but an affirmation.

  


“Yeah.”

  


“Wanna talk about it?”

  


“No. I’m not shutting you out; I’m just not ready yet. I will talk to you soon though. I think we all need to. Much as I dread it and would rather jab a fucking fork into my eye than have to sit down and talk about this, we need to get it all out onto the table.”

  


“Agreed. Tonight? After dinner?”

  


“Yeah, I think so. The sooner the better, right?”

  


She looked down at her hands, fidgeting again, and sighed heavily. I agreed with what that sigh meant. I didn’t want to have the impending conversation. I didn’t want to have to finally hear what Harry and Hermione’s situation actually was. But I also didn’t want to have to sit in the pain and anguish any longer. I wanted to address this… whatever the fuck this was head on. I wanted to get it out into the open now. I didn’t want there to be any secrets anymore.

  


“I know, Gin. It won’t be easy. But haven’t you been waiting long enough to know? I’ve been home less than a day and I can’t stand it. I don’t know how you’ve done it this entire time.” I squeezed her shoulder gently and she looked up from her hands. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. “Gin?”

  


“I’m so scared. I’ve convinced myself that this is the end. I kept thinking I was ready to know, but ultimately I was never ready. That’s why I never confronted them. I didn’t want to know. Once I hear it from his mouth, I know there’s no going back. If he’s in love with her, that’s the end. There was some small part of me that was still holding onto a piece of hope, you know? Some part of me that kept thinking you would show up and everything would be fixed. You would show up and I would have been wrong- they never slept together, they never needed each other more than they needed us. Tonight is the end of that hope, however irrational it may be.”

  


_Fuck, there’s a part of me that wishes for that, but it’s not right. The only way is to start over._

  


“Gin, I- I hate to say it, but it has to be said. Even if they aren’t in love, they did sleep together. We can never take that part away. That’s something you’re going to have to learn to accept. Or not. But it’s not going to change after our conversation tonight.”

  


“I know. I already said it was irrational, didn’t I?” she said, somewhat irritated.

  


“Yeah, I guess you did.”

  


“Let’s not think on it too much, okay? We’ve got most of the day before we have to face the music. We should make the best of it.”

  


“Gin, you can’t push it away forever. I know I’m not one to talk, considering I ran as far as I could for two years, but don’t do it. If you keep pushing it out of your head, it will only hurt more when you finally let it in.”

  


_Like getting clubbed over the head with a brick._

  


“I know,” she said, wiping at her damp cheek. I felt completely helpless to do anything besides put my arm around her and pull her to my chest. I swallowed uncomfortably, unwilling to give up the precious little time we had to these doubts and fears.

  


“Come on. No more wallowing. The day’s waiting for us.”

  


_And what a day it promises to be._

  
*****

 

I would love to know what you thought! Reviews are love. Thanks, Risie


	9. Chapter 9 - Immersion

  
Author's notes:

It's been a while since the last update- darn RL!  Thank you to Mench for her quick beta.  She is all kinds of lovely and I truly appreciate her.  Thank you to everyone who continues to be interested in this fic, as well as to everyone who reads and reviews.  Your comments feed my writer's soul and entice my muse to come back to life, so thank you for each and every review that has been left.  This is not the chapter you have probably been waiting for; I thought there was still a bit of necessary development for Ron before the after-dinner conversation/confrontation.  Not to worry though, because the next chapter will entirely be the confrontation.   

I also wanted to let you know that, due to many requests, I have started to write a companion piece to this fic from Hermione's POV.  The first chapter starts a year before Ron's return and will have corresponding chapters to this fic.  I want to write a few more chapters of that before I start posting, but keep an eye out for it, if you are interested. 

Hope you enjoy the chapter!  Thanks for reading and reviewing...  ~Risie  :o)

* * *

If you can't read the A/N for this chapter, please read it before you read the chapter.  Thanks!  ~Risie 

 

If a Man Answers, Chapter 9 (Immersion)

 

Splashing some cold water on my face, I glanced into the mirror, not at all surprised to see a tired and defeated man staring back at me. _How did this all really happen? How did it go so far, so fast?_

 

_Oh, Ron. I’m so sorry._

 

The words that changed my life forever.

 

I felt some burden of responsibility for the way Hermione’s news had come out, for the suddenness of it. She and Harry wouldn’t have been able to hide it for long- in fact, they hadn’t really hidden their relationship at all. Harry had been possessive of her from the moment I returned. I simply hadn’t wanted to believe that my worst nightmare could possibly come true. Yet, I must have been able to sense that something wasn’t exactly right, despite her taking me to bed. Why else would I have asked her point-blank if she slept with him or not?

 

“ _Hermione. Let. Go.”_

 

“ _No. Not like this. I can’t.”_

 

“ _Hermione. I mean it. Let GO. NOW!”_

 

“ _If I do that, you’ll leave me and I’ll never see you again. I won’t let you go.”_

 

“ _You’re bloody right I’m damn well leaving.”_

 

A self-deprecating laugh rumbled at the back of my throat. I wasn’t sure what was so funny, but something felt distinctly amusing in the irony of the situation. I had no more power to leave The Burrow than she had to finally let me go. _That’s half the problem._ Would we ever truly let each other go, or would we merely hold onto yesterday in some veiled effort to restore better days?

 

“ _I’m not going to lose you again.”_

 

“ _Too fucking late. You lost me when you fucked Harry.”_

 

Was that true? Was that moment the end of our relationship? Had the end happened two years before, despite my denial that it could ever really be over? Perhaps our relationship had really been over before I even left, but neither of us had been courageous enough to leave the relative comfort of our existence. One thing was certain, though I didn’t want to admit it- she could never lose me, not fully. I might not be her lover, her partner, but she would always be stamped on my heart and there would be no shaking her, regardless of what my mind eventually decided to do.

 

“ _Go on, defend your fuck-buddy!”_

 

“ _Don’t ever call him that! Ever! You have absolutely no right. Did you forget you practically drove me into his arms?”_

 

I had driven her away from me. I had been doing it for years. Push. Pull. We had pushed and pulled too much, I had pushed too hard, she didn’t pull back hard enough.

 

Could I really blame Harry for what happened? Could I really blame her? The answer would have to be both yes and no. Of course, the answer couldn’t be simple, cut and dried, black and white. The answer had to have the usual complexities of life that it would sometimes be easier to forget existed.

 

I wanted to blame Harry and Hermione and forget that I ever needed them like I needed air to breathe. I wanted to hate them and wish the worst the world could offer on them. I wanted to throw away their meaning, their place in my life, to banish them forever from my heart.

 

Yes, I wanted to do that.

 

So why did I feel this undeniable and strong urge to take all of the blame? Why did I want to apologise to Harry and Hermione for putting them into such an impossible situation? Why did I want to hold them both in my arms and take away the pain I must have caused them? Why did I want to obliviate all of our memories of the past two years, pretend it had never happened, and make things go back to happier times? Because I loved them.

 

I loved them enough to want them to both be happy. I loved them enough to want to spare them from any further pain. I loved them so deeply that their betrayal couldn’t completely overshadow the days of sunshine with them. I loved them so much that I wanted to find a way back to that happy place, that time when we all knew what we wanted and the most difficult thing was living long enough to make it happen.

 

“ _I still love you. I always have. That will never change.”_

 

Splashing a bit more cold water on my face, I tried, yet again, to put the past behind me. The past wouldn’t stay put, no matter if I nailed it in place on not. I didn’t want to think about how deeply I loved Hermione. I didn’t want to think about the possibility that she might still love me. I didn’t want to think about how I loved Harry as a brother and didn’t want him to suffer any more than I wanted myself to suffer. I didn’t want to think about the fact that love sometimes just isn’t enough.

 

_Damn shame._

 

Exiting the loo, I was a bit surprised to see that Ginny waited on the stairs for me instead of walking downstairs alone, but I merely grabbed onto her hand and held it the entire way down the stairs. I led her to the kitchen, my stomach grumbling as we neared the table, amazed to not see my Mum already there. I turned to Ginny, who was smirking lightly at me.

 

“What?” I asked, confused at her look.

 

“You do realise that we’re the first ones up, don’t you?”

 

“There’s a first time for everything,” I said cheekily, catching a glance at the family clock. The hands for Mum and Dad were both pointed at sleeping. Looking out the window, I saw that the sky was just beginning to show a pale pink colour.

 

“Bloody hell, Gin! Why the fuck are we awake so early?” I said loudly, belying my composure about being the first awake.

 

Ginny shrugged her shoulders, but grinned brightly, probably at my characteristically annoyed attitude toward not getting to lie in longer.

 

“What?” I asked with a grin of my own, beginning to look around to see what food was available.

 

“I’ve missed your colourful language. It’s nice to hear it again. I reckon even Mum won’t be able to scold you about it- or me, since I mostly learnt it from you.”

 

“Nah, she won’t say anything. But, that’s probably because we’re gonna make them breakfast.”

 

“We are, are we?”

 

“Uh-huh,” I mumbled and turned toward the larder. “I think it’s our turn to make breakfast. Mum’s done it enough. We can give her the morning off.” I pulled out some potatoes, brown sauce, and bread, before opening the modified Muggle fridge to grab bacon, eggs, mushrooms, and tomatoes. I flicked my wand and the tea kettle flew onto the back burner of the stove, a flame leaping to life under it.

 

Ginny stood in the middle of the kitchen, looking at me as though she couldn’t believe her eyes. I may not have been the most willing help in the kitchen when we were younger, but I certainly knew how to do a morning fry-up. _She shouldn’t be so surprised!_

 

“Close your mouth, Gin, you’ll let flies in. It’s not as though you’ve never seen me cook before. Besides, I had to cook for myself the last two years. If there’s one thing I can do in the kitchen, it’s make breakfast.”

 

“I’m not surprised- not at all! I’m just impressed. It’s not often I see one of my brothers cooking. What can I do?”

 

Surveying the kitchen, I saw that I really didn’t need her help. I could make this meal in my sleep.

 

“You could go outside and enjoy the sunrise. And, when that’s over, pick out some flowers.”

 

“Ron-”

 

“Really. Relax. I’m the reason you’re awake so early- go enjoy it.”

 

Without saying a word, Ginny crossed the short distance and squeezed me briefly, before kissing my cheek and then walking outside. _Thank Merlin I’m starting to make it up to her._

 

As though getting up early had been my plan all along, I began making a decent breakfast; nothing like Mum could make, but pretty good. Growing up at the Burrow, we all learned a good amount about cooking from our Mum, just from standing around talking to her while she was cooking. Dad was a fair cook as well, but he paled in comparison, as we all did, to our Mum.

 

I moved about the kitchen with a practised ease. While I was chopping potatoes and slicing tomatoes, the past two years melted away, leaving me with thoughts of the last day or so.

 

I thought of the moment that had felt so full of potential, the moment when Hermione should have answered the door alone and things could have gone differently: the moment when a half-dressed Harry answered the door and crushed my heart with what his inadvertent revelation meant. I felt the muscle memory flood me, recalling what his first hug had felt like, how tightly he had clasped me against him, how his fingers had dug into my shoulders as he clung to me.

 

“ _Ron,” he croaked at me before giving me a bone-crushing hug. It was getting hard to breathe before I finally was able to get out from his clutch._

__

 

__

I didn’t want to admit how good it felt to be held so tightly. 

__

 

 

_“Ron, can’t believe you’re finally here, really here, finally home. Your family must have told you where to find me, no doubt.”_

 

I could almost still feel his arms wrapping around me. This wasn’t a manly sort of hug between two mates saying hello; this was an embrace between two men who have always been so much more than friends, who’ve been brothers in anything that mattered, clinging to this one moment in time together.

 

_Fuck, it shouldn’t have felt so good to be hugged by the wanker who stole my girl from me. Why can’t I just be angry at him?_ I asked myself. I didn’t want to feel bad for Harry. I didn’t want to realise that the entire situation had been a struggle for him as well, or that perhaps he had missed me like I missed him. I wanted to get mad at him. Being mad was the only thing that would make it better.

 

I thought of how angry I had been when he had called out to Hermione. _Love._ As though she were his. I logically knew that she might, in all honesty, be his, but that wasn’t right. She was mine. She had to be. I thought of how enraged I began to feel as Harry clearly marked his territory in front of me. I could feel the jealousy and fire ripping through my veins again as I remembered him kissing her forehead and her nose, holding onto her just a little too tightly, using pet names for her.

 

_But then he let her go, he left her with me._

 

I had been feeling conflicted about those few moments between the three of us. _Harry._ I sighed deeply. On one hand, my “brother” had held me so tightly, as though he was actually happy I was home. On the other hand, my “best mate” had been possessive and territorial over Hermione, letting me know so clearly that things were different.

 

However, given their later conversation, he basically gave her his blessing for her to come to me. _What did he whisper to her? And what the fuck is their relationship?_ Hermione had said they weren’t just fuck buddies, yet I realised that I had no real idea what they actually were.

 

_I’ll know tonight._

 

Was Harry trying to bow out gracefully, but then got scared or thought better of it? Was he really trying to prevent me from leaving or just trying to separate me and Hermione? Could it be both?

 

I shook my head thoroughly, as I flipped the potatoes frying in the pan. Thinking about Harry caused my heart to ache, almost as deeply as it did when I thought about Hermione. I couldn’t begin to fathom my life without him as my best mate, despite the past two years apart, but I had no clue how to move forward from here. How could we continue? Seeing each other will only remind us that we’ve both lost something, regardless of who loses her.

 

_Don’t think on it- not right now,_ I told myself. I tried again to process back through my memories of the past day. Though it was painful, I felt the need to catalogue the feelings, the sensations, what exactly I remembered of the various incidents.

 

_Slap._ __

 

__

Hermione’s right hand connected with my left cheek almost before I could register her hand moving.

__

 

_“That was for leaving two years ago without so much as one word.”_

 

_Slap.  
_

_Hermione’s left hand landed firmly on my right cheek just as our eyes met._

__

 

__

“That was for insinuating that you have any right to be angry or hurt if Harry and I are sleeping together.”

__

 

 

I raised my hand to my cheek, almost as though I could still feel the sting from her slapping me. _I deserved it._ I knew she was right- it was unacceptable for me to go there after two years and expect things to just go back to the way they were. Of course things were different.

 

_But then she kissed me!_ Was it really so unreasonable to think I could come back and it might be the same? Supposedly things are different between her and Harry, but she came back to me, she kissed me. _She_ kissed me. I told myself it mattered that she had initiated the intimacy between us. That had to mean something, though I wasn’t quite sure what.

 

As it stood, she was the one who kissed me first, she was the one who led me into her bedroom. Although I was a willing participant, she had been the initiator, the aggressor. She had offered herself to me. If she wasn’t still in love with me, would she really do that? _If she’s more in love with Harry than she is with me, would she have been able to leave him and make love to me?_

 

Again, the questions came back to whether or not they were in love.

 

_Are they in love?_

 

_I don’t know._

 

My heart wouldn’t allow me to answer that particular question, still holding onto the hope that there was a chance for us. I was so angry at my heart, wishing it could just let her go. Why wouldn’t it give up on someone who had clearly moved on without me? Why wouldn’t my heart protect me and let me rage at them for betraying me? Why did my heart insist on clinging to the half-thread of hope that someday we could resolve this mess?

 

_"Stop, Hermione. Love, you need to stop. I want to be inside you. Need to be inside you. Can't wait any longer to have you." I was babbling; I knew it. I needed to distract myself from those lips, those eyes looking deeply into mine._

 

_With a feral growl, she came back up to me, kissed me fiercely and said, "Then take me."_

 

Because passion is a hard thing to give up on. Whatever else we might have been missing, Hermione and I never lacked passion, starting from the moment we met each other. Hermione and I sparked. I’d never seen her get half as fiery with anyone else, not even Harry, as how she was with me.

 

“ _I love you. I love you so much. I’m really home.”_

 

“ _Yes, you are. Though you were never far from my heart.” I could nearly die every time I heard her say something like that._

 

“ _And you really still want this, want us?”_

 

“ _More than ever… so much.” Her eyes began to water and I knew that the realisation had finally hit her._

 

I wondered how she could possibly sleep with Harry but then she made love so passionately with me. How could she be with him and then say she wanted me? Was she like that with Harry as well?

 

Something told me she couldn’t possibly be the same with him. She just couldn’t. _We fell into each other so easily that night because we’re still in love!_ I refused to believe a person, much less my Hermione, could ever let themselves be so exposed to someone they weren’t in love with. That could only amount to sex, which was far from what that night had been- it was far from any intimate encounter I had ever had with Hermione.

 

I remembered moments from our shared history, moments that were so scorching between the two of us that my skin still flushed from the memory alone. I remembered nights that had been so raw and needy, desperate and passionate, that I swore my soul itself might chafe.

 

“ _I can’t lose you again, Hermione. I just can’t.”_

 

“ _Then open your eyes. I’m right here with you.”_

 

_I ignored her words, but shifted my face against hers until our noses bumped and our lips hovered less than an inch from each other._

 

“ _I love you,” she whispered into the slight space, warming me with her words and her breath, a sharp contrast to the cool water still beating against my back._

 

“ _Never let anything come between us again,” I mumbled as I crashed my lips into hers, a kiss of reverence and desperation and hope. Our lips clung to one another, lingering together with the salty tang of her tears._

 

But there was something behind those encounters that always led me to believe we had been doing more than just shagging or fucking. We were in love and that made all the difference in the world. At least, it made all the difference to me.

 

The more I thought about it, the more I realised that I was missing a huge piece of the puzzle somehow.

 

_Can someone be in love equally with two people at the same time?_

 

I supposed it was definitely possible. I chuckled a bit to myself, thinking how Harry had always insisted he thought that Sirius, Remus, and Tonks had been a threesome that became a twosome when his godfather died. _Maybe he was right._

 

Despite realising that it was a possibility for some people, I knew I could never be happy that way- not entirely. Yes, there was more love and hands and mouths and gentle caresses. Three best friends who could share everything- literally everything- with each other. Having two people who knew me better than I knew myself.

 

I could easily see the benefits, perhaps too easily for me to be fully comfortable with, and much more than I liked to admit. But what it was even easier for me to see was the difficulties I would have with such an arrangement. The first being I didn’t think I would ever forgive myself for doing that to Ginny. She had already given up so much; I refused to take even more away from her.

 

Even if Ginny wasn’t an issue, I tended to get jealous and possessive and singularly focused; I wanted someone who wanted to be mine and only mine. I didn’t think I would ever get to the point when sharing would be an easy and natural part of my life- not if what I was sharing was the love of my life.

 

Perhaps it was growing up in a home where I never had something shiny and new. I never got first pick of anything and it was rare for something to belong to me and only me, instead of being passed on from one of my brothers. Whatever the reason, I knew sharing Hermione would never be acceptable to my heart- not in the long run. I wanted all of her or nothing at all. It made sense, really, considering that was the reason those other women had never been enough. They weren’t the whole package and that was what I had been searching for and found in Hermione. Damn my consistent heart.

 

_What about Harry and Hermione? What do they want?_ I wondered, almost afraid to imagine it.

 

With Harry, it was an easy answer. Poor Harry, who had grown up with an Aunt and Uncle who despised him, craved love in all its forms- parental, brotherly, romantic, friendship. This probably accounted for a good amount of the ways Harry had come to acquire his relationships. It was something that most people found easy to sense in him: his heart was open to love. How he had come to be that way, I never knew, because he could have become as black-hearted as Malfoy. Instead, he grew up to have enough love in his heart to save the Wizarding World.

 

Harry was the kind of person I could very definitely see being happy with that sort of arrangement. In an idealised world, he would never have to worry about not having enough love, nor whether he would have to live his days alone. For Harry, it was almost a perfect solution. However, Harry was also prone to falling a little bit in love with people who showed him respect and love and the slightest bit of genuine attention. I wondered if perhaps that had been what happened with Hermione: he lost Ginny, but found what he was looking for in her.

 

“ _Harry received a letter from you after a couple days. You asked him to promise to take care of me. He felt like he must have failed you in some way to make you leave. He refused to fail you in your request of him and he promised me and you that he would do everything in his power to look after me.”_

 

“ _He spent so much time with me that he nearly lost his job- twice! All because he refused to fail you again and break his promise. And that’s not even the worst of it. He and Ginny fought constantly. I begged him to go to her, to save their relationship before it was too late, but no. You know Harry. When he gets an idea in his head, there’s no stopping him.”_

 

“ _He broke your sister’s heart and his own, because you were more important to him than anything else in this world. You received Harry’s greatest possible gift, but it wouldn’t have mattered to you, so no one wrote to tell you.”_

 

I groaned out loud and closed my eyes briefly, as though that would force the unpleasantness out of my mind. It was hard to bear the kind of pain that rose in my chest when I thought about everything Harry had given up for me. It was hard to focus on how angry I was with him, when my memories forced me to also see how devastated Harry had been without me.

 

_Why did it have to be Harry?_ I asked myself for what seemed like the millionth time. Anyone else and I wouldn’t have had quite this difficulty in digesting the situation and figuring out what I really wanted. Anyone else and I wouldn’t have been feeling quite so betrayed by Hermione.

 

Hermione. Now she was much more difficult to figure out than Harry, although there was nothing unusual about that. On the one hand, Hermione had always thought Harry was fanciable- she had even told me that herself. Sometimes back in school, I swore that she helped him more often and gave him the answers more readily than she did to me. I had even asked her about it before, but she had said it was because she knew I could do it on my own, or some other such bollocks.

 

I remembered moments when I would catch Hermione looking at Harry with this look in her eyes, as though she just wanted to hold him. Of course, I felt like I wanted to hold him in those times, so I never said anything to her about it. I had always thought those moments were more about Harry being so broken and Hermione feeling an intense need to mother him. Had I misread the signs when she had really been feeling an attraction to him? _She can’t have been in love with him. She can’t!_

 

On the other hand, I had never seen Hermione angrier than when I took up with Lavender. _She sicced canaries on me, for Merlin’s sake!_ She was prone to fits of jealousy and losing composure when it came to me, which I liked more than I wanted to admit, and I’d never seen her act that way over Harry.

 

I’d always noticed that Hermione never fought with Harry- at least, not in the way that she fought with me. When they fought, it was quicker, more a squabble between siblings, which was probably why I believed Harry when he told me he thought of her as a sister. _Certainly not how I think about Ginny. Wanker._ Hermione’s quarrels with me could be nasty, biting to the point of still stinging deeply years later. We both hit below the belt, so to speak, beyond any sense of propriety or respectfulness. I never hesitated to give as good as I got with her, because she egged me on, she incited me to give her everything I had inside myself.

 

Looking back, it must have seemed painfully obvious to everyone who knew us how hard we had each been fighting our mutual attraction. What better way to prove we weren’t meant for each other than to show our shared contempt for each other? Of course, that would have worked much better if I hadn’t constantly been getting enraged each time someone tried to hurt her, soil her name, or take her away from me.

 

_She’d thank me and smile, share her homework a bit more, but then she always pulled away just a little bit._

 

Hermione grew up as an only child and sometimes I thought she seemed perfectly content to be on her own. Thinking back though, I remembered how hurt she had been when both Harry and I gave her the cold shoulder over that bloody broomstick. She couldn’t stand being left out.

 

_Perhaps Hermione would be okay with being in love with two people simultaneously. Maybe she already is._

I absentmindedly pulled the bacon out of the pan and cracked some eggs into the leftover grease. Surveying the kitchen, I realised I had made almost the entire meal while lost in thought.

 

“Damn, Ron, it smells amazing in here!” Ginny exclaimed as she came in from the back garden.

 

“I hope you’re hungry. I want to make a tray for Mum and Dad before they get up and then I’ll come down and eat with you.”

 

Ginny and I arranged various plates and cups on the tray, along with the flowers she picked, and I levitated it up to our parents’ room. Knocking lightly on the door, I pushed it open slowly, pleased to see Mum just beginning to stir.

 

“Morning, Mum,” I said quietly, not wanting to wake Dad.

 

“Ronnie,” she said with a smile and sat up more fully. “What’s all this?”

 

“Breakfast. Not as good as yours, of course, but not half bad.”

 

“Oh, my goodness, thank you so much! I can’t believe it- you home and breakfast in bed. It’s a perfect morning. Perfect.”

 

Her eyes lit up when I levitated the tray onto her lap, her grin growing wider as she saw how much food I piled up for them. I leaned over to give her a hug and kiss on the cheek, genuinely happy to see her.

 

“I’m gonna eat with Gin and then head over to the WWW to spend some time with Gred and Forge. I’ll be back later, yeah?”

 

“You boys don’t get into too much mischief- that’s all we need is for you to join them and give them new ideas.” I caught her teasing tone and twinkling eyes, glad to have so easily gotten back to that place with her.

 

A quick “love you” and I bounded back down the stairs, very surprised to see the twins sitting with Ginny and eating from full plates.

 

“Yeah, help yourselves,” I said a bit sarcastically, clapping them both on their shoulders.

 

“Don’t mind if I do!”

 

“It is the least you can do for us, after leaving for two years,” Fred said, pursing his lips slightly into a hurt pout.

 

“Well played,” I said, piling up my own plate. “It definitely would’ve convinced me if I hadn’t already made enough for everyone.”

 

Breakfast passed, much like yesterday’s had, almost without me knowing it. I remembered a handful of comments and laughs, but, by and large, I was lost in my thoughts and the comfort of being amongst family again.

 

“Is Shadow coming with us?” Fred asked, standing up from the table.

 

“Oi! I haven’t been called that in ages!” Ginny said loudly.

 

I grinned, thinking about how she’d earned that teasing nickname from George when we were kids. _She stayed closer to me than my own shadow._

 

“Dunno- it’s up to her.”

 

“Nah, you need your ‘boys time’. I’ll come by around lunch though, in case we want to pop over to The Leaky.”

 

“See you then.”

 

With a whirl of more green flames, the three of us landed in the back workroom of the WWW. I smiled at the familiarity of it all, at how it smelled nearly the same, how the various scorch marks still marred the bricks, but how tidy they kept it. I noticed the many piles of sketches and brightly coloured items, probably working samples of new products, lining the large work table.

 

“So, little brother, what did you have in mind for us?”

 

_*****_

 

_Can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard!_

 

In the three hours that we’d been at the store, there’d been very little calm and quiet time. Prior to this experience, I’d never been privy to seeing the twins’ “creative process”, as they called it.

 

Fred was an idea man. He would take an idea and run with it. Each comment would be followed by a very short pause before he was off and running onto another aspect of the hypothetical product.

 

George was more action and creation, quite to the opposite of what I had expected. Every time Fred called out an idea, George immediately began sketching or transfiguring, trying to create a model he could work with. He even managed to keep up pretty well with Fred’s constant stream of comments and additions. Obviously, they’d had a lot of time to practise and hone this cycle.

 

Despite Mum initially being so furious with them and insisting that they would never go anywhere without graduating from Hogwarts, I had always thought my brothers were extraordinary wizards. The magic they were able to perform, usually in the name of mischief, was some of the most brilliant I had ever seen before. Seeing them in action was a confirmation of their talent, but also of their determination to make a quality product to add humour to another person’s day.

 

Being a part of it was… surreal. There was really no other way to describe it. I had expected to feel like a third wheel or an after-thought, but nothing could’ve been further from the truth. It was amazing what a cooperative environment it turned out to be. Each idea they tossed around, one of them would turn to me and ask what I thought about it. I’d flick my wand to show them a different idea or I’d mention a possible modification, and they’d excitedly carry on what they’d been doing.

 

_I shouldn’t be so surprised! This is probably how they were with Percy once he came back._

 

The entire day flew by, only really interrupted by Ginny showing up with a basket of sandwiches, crisps, and fruit for lunch. She stayed on after eating and the four of us played and cracked jokes for the afternoon. At one point I was fairly certain Fred was going to say something about Harry and Hermione, but George cleared his throat softly and the moment was gone.

 

Almost before I knew it, Ginny and I were waving goodbye and stumbling out of the floo at the Burrow. Mum greeted us with a smile and turned back to the stove, reminding us to clean up before dinner. After being in the workroom for the majority of the day, a cool shower sounded wonderful. As the water flowed against my back, I concentrated on breathing deeply and calming my nerves. Much as I wanted to deny it, I desperately needed to see Harry and Hermione. I needed to get back on my feet. I needed to be a man and make some decisions instead of letting my bloody emotions take over my body. I needed resolution. _The only way to get it is to talk to them_. That thought strengthened my determination to survive the evening with a clear head.

 

As I got out of the shower, I wondered briefly if they were going to show up. Neither of them knew what to anticipate nor did they have any idea about what kind of reception to expect from me or my family. If history was any indicator, they should have known they would be welcome. However, they were probably cautious of a change in attitude since my return. I was a bit surprised to realise I would be sad if they didn't come. I forced myself to interpret that sadness as not wanting to go any longer without having resolution and not because I missed them. It hurt too much to think about that.

 

Bill and Charlie's voices carried upstairs as I was pulling on my trousers, followed moments later by Hermione and Harry’s voices. I knew this was what I had waited for, but I wasn’t as ready as I had been only moments before.

 

_One foot in front of the other_ , I told myself, trying to propel my legs down the stairs. After I somehow managed half of the stairs, I stopped suddenly. If this was to be a new start, a moment to define myself and the kind of person I wanted to be, I didn’t want anything to happen this way.

 

I didn’t want to drag myself down the stairs with a heavy heart and a head full of confusion. I didn’t want my body language to express my hurt. I didn’t want to sulk in like a wounded animal. I wanted to be a man. I wanted to walk into the kitchen, shoulders back and head held high, a purpose in my stride. I wanted to show in actions and words that I knew what I wanted and needed.

 

_Merlin, help me._

 

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, allowing my pain and anger and doubt to flood my consciousness. I allowed myself to feel every wretched emotion freely running through my body. I let myself question my decisions, wondering about every flaw in my thinking, focusing on any small detail that nagged at my heart or my brain.

 

I stood on the stairs like that for probably three minutes, immersed in everything I’d felt over the course of the last two days. Then, I opened my eyes, took another deep breath, squared my shoulders, and forced those thoughts to calm. I could still feel everything, obviously, but I gave myself the space I needed to allow rational thought to seep back into my consciousness.

 

_I need to do this for all of us._

 

My feet carried me down the rest of the stairs and I was greeted immediately by my brothers. Their easy smiles and warm hugs eased any concerns I had about whether they would forgive me or not. Meeting the newest members of the family was a moment I was sure I wouldn't forget. I couldn't believe I had nearly missed it, but I promised myself that I wouldn't miss anything else important.

 

When I turned to look at Hermione and Harry, I held my breath for a moment. Hermione was clutching a basket full of what looked like biscuits very tightly and Harry was grasping two wine bottles with white knuckles. Hermione looked at me and smiled softly, almost hesitantly, and I felt my lips respond before I could tell them otherwise. I wasn't upset though, because there was no need to be rude. Just because she had ripped my heart out of my chest didn't mean I needed to be unpleasant. _Yes, that would be uncalled for._ I almost snorted at the thought. Harry tried very carefully not to make eye contact with anyone, but he didn't succeed very well.

 

The worst part of the experience was the awkwardness. Oddly, seeing them together didn't make my heart clench with jealousy or anger. It didn't make me seethe with rage. Well, that was a lie I told myself to force my body to not flee immediately. I didn't want to feel the rush of emotions that overcame me, so I ignored them. I blocked out the worst of them, because I knew I needed to not let the anger and hurt take over- that would only make things worse. There was a time and place for those feelings, but it wasn't here and it wasn't now. However, I did let myself feel the strange twinge in my chest. I noticed how my blood pumped a little faster. Those were things that could be explained away without difficult-to-control feelings of anger or embarrassing feelings of loss creeping over me.

 

Mostly, seeing them again made me sad that the two people I had once felt closest to now made me feel awkward. It made me feel sad that I had never had problems finding something to say to my two mates, but now I couldn't even call a single word to mind. It made me sad that we might never get back our friendship, or anything even close to that friendship, because love and sex had fucked everything up beyond recognition.

 

Time held still for several moments after they flooed into the Burrow. The shy glances between Ginny and Hermione, the shifting eye contact between Harry and myself, the unspoken tension clear in the air- all of it seemed slow and out of sync with the rest of the universe. Thankfully, Mum walked into the sitting room to call us all to the table and the spell broke. Suddenly everyone was moving quickly to the table, situating themselves, their spouses, and their children, and passing dishes around. I had forgotten what meals with the entire Weasley family were like and our numbers had grown quite a bit since the last time I had been to one.

 

Dinner was surprisingly cordial, considering the tension between the four of us. My family was amazing. How they managed to treat Harry and Hermione no differently than before gobsmacked me. Even more surreal was the realisation that they had probably acted this way throughout the last year at every Sunday dinner.

 

_How did they manage that?_ I asked myself, somewhat jealous of my family’s ability to get beyond what had changed and still love them. I guessed that was what families did when they needed to support one another.

 

Ginny’s hand griped my thigh and I felt how tense she was. Tilting my head slightly, I was close enough for her to whisper in my ear that they’d never stopped thinking of me and wishing things had been different. I quirked an eyebrow at her, curious if she had been using Legilimancy, but she lightly shook her head and tapped her finger over her heart. She _knew_ me, always had.

 

I looked up and caught Harry studying the two of us, but he quickly looked away when he realised I noticed him. Part of me was desperately wondering what his various glances meant. At different points during the dinner, I had seen him furtively glance at Hermione, Ginny, and me. If I was perfectly honest with myself, I’d have said he was uncomfortable. My anger over-shadowed the thought and I was left with the determination that he must have been feeling guilty- rightly so.

 

_Except none of this was entirely his fault._ None of this was entirely anyone’s fault, something Mum had been trying to help me understand. I may have been the catalyst for change by leaving two years ago, but it didn’t really start with me and it wouldn’t end that way either. Suddenly, I couldn’t wait for dinner to be over. I wanted things sorted. I wanted to stop being stuck in this moment.

 

“What about you, Ron?” Bill looked expectantly at me and I realised I had tuned out of the conversation.

 

“What was that?”

 

“I asked if you wanted to come over and listen to the Cannons’ match next weekend and we’ll make a party of it. Everyone else is game to support your team.”

 

“Sounds great, Bill, thanks for that. Will Fleur and the girls be staying or will that be too much for the little ones?” I turned to look at Fleur and my two nieces. I had really come to love Fleur as a sister during the War and was glad she became a part of the family. She smiled warmly at me and I wondered if I would always feel the light tingle that ran down my back or if I would eventually become immune to her Veela powers.

 

“You really tuned out, didn’t you, Ron?” Bill laughed and told me that Mum and Dad had already agreed to watch all the children so we “young folks” could have some fun.

 

“That’s a whole lot of babies to watch, Mum,” I said with a smile. “Sure they won’t overrun you?”

 

“Oh, you,” Mum said and wagged her finger at me before getting up to clear the dishes. Ginny and George got up to help her and the rest of the family moved to the sitting room to relax for a bit.

 

Part of me was truly enjoying getting to hear about the various weddings, job promotions, and general stories about life. I felt more a part of my family than I had for a long time. I continued to be amazed by how naturally and easily my family welcome me back into their lives. There was no hostility, overt or otherwise, and they seemed to genuinely want to hear about my life. The other part of me wanted the evening over as soon as possible so I could start to get my life sorted. _Not like there’s much to tell about the last two years anyway._

 

I felt woefully unimpressive as I had very little to show for the last couple years I had been away. They all had families and careers and were on track with their lives. Me? I had no career to speak of and wasn’t even sure what I wanted to do with my life now that I was back in England. I had a couple new friends that I told them all about. I described some of my adventures and the exploring I did while on my travels. Overall, I felt like a child sitting at the grown up’s table.

 

Too soon, and yet not soon enough, my brothers began to leave for their respective homes. I made plans to see Percy for lunch in the coming week and I was oddly looking forward to it. I suspected he wanted to tell me what it was like for him when he came back to the family after his absence. I had no doubt his situation was completely different from mine, but I thought the gesture was nice.

 

Mum and Dad bade us all goodnight and gave each of us a hug on the way to their bedroom. Mum squeezed me tightly and whispered she was proud of me in my ear. It was wonderful to hear, especially after my earlier feelings of being less accomplished than everyone else. Mum made Hermione and Harry promise to come to dinner next week, as usual, and they both nodded their heads in agreement. Neither one looked particularly happy about it.

 

I stood up and headed to the kitchen once Mum and Dad headed upstairs, leaving Ginny, Harry, and Hermione alone for a moment.

 

_Firewhiskey. Won’t make it through this without some liquid courage._

 

I brought the whiskey, four glasses, and some ice from the kitchen and automatically started pouring some for each of us. The same amount for Harry and me, slightly less for both Ginny and Hermione. It would have been comforting to realise I still remembered so much of how we all were together, how ingrained within me it was, if I hadn’t also realised that things would never go back to the way they were.

 

To push the idea out of my mind, I swirled the whiskey around my glass a couple time before taking a healthy gulp. It burned, thankfully. I was much happier with that kind of pain than what was coming.

 

_Here goes nothing._

 

*****

 

Thank you so much for reading! Yes, I promise, there is absolutely no more stalling after this. The dinner conversation is the entire next chapter, which I’ve already started writing.

In the meantime, I’d love to know what you thought! Reviews are love and feed my soul (and my muse for the upcoming chapters as well)! Risie :o)


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